


Lines

by Cyndi



Series: Danceverse [8]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childbirth, F/M, M/M, Other, Pregnancy, Robot/Human Relationships, Xenophilia, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 84,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyndi/pseuds/Cyndi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikaela discovers she's pregnant and Sam is running the other way. Afraid and alone, she calls the last name on her list...Optimus. The events following that conversation will change them forever. .o OptimusxMikaela, Danceverse o.</p><p>Original post date on ff.net: November 4, 2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: This takes place after Shifting Gears with mention of events from For the World.
> 
> Additional note for this site: Mikaela's stance on abortion comes from my headcanoning her as growing up around a somewhat religious mom. She herself isn't overly religious but that aspect of it stuck and she's basically parroting what she heard her mom say all the time. It's not a personal reflection of my own stance on it. I wouldn't do it myself, but I won't call someone who has an abortion a murderer. 
> 
> I'm just putting that out there because I had someone attack me and call me a rape-apologist(WHAT?!) over the issue back in 2012 and I don't want a repeat of that.

Two lines had slashed her life apart.

They were a chasm that left her standing outside her own house in the middle of the night with her life bundled in two duffle bags heavier than the world. They became the parallel walls of a prison trapping her in limbo between the past and future. They locked her out of her old way of life forever.

Now she stood alone, trapped and terrified. She shivered in the cool night air.

How could she be so stupid?

Weeks of sleeping on friends' couches until she wore out her welcome had come to this. Crawling back home for the belongings she failed to pack before didn't help her self esteem. She'd gone through everybody on her cell phone list.

Except one.

Mikaela grasped her cell phone in shaking hands and started dialing without thinking about it. There was one person out there who wouldn't be disappointed, angry or judgmental, and right now she'd give anything just to hear his voice.

He answered after the first ring, his smoky baritone curling into her like a pleasant flavor. "Mikaela! It's awfully late. What can I do for you at this hour?"

Mikaela's eyes burned as she choked out, "Hey, Optimus...did I wake you up?"

"No, you didn't." Optimus' voice instantly dropped to a concerned whisper. "You sound distressed. Are you all right?"

"No..." she sniffed. Tears threatened just behind her eyelids, but she refused to shed them alone.

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes. No! No...I'm not hurt. I'm just...I..." She reached through her hair and grasped at her scalp, then ran her fingers over her dark locks and let her hand slap down at her side. "Dammit, I can't even  _think_."

"Calm down," Optimus spoke with eternal patience, his voice like a smoothing hand against her mind. "What is your situation?"

"I--I can't tell you on the phone." Because if she did, she'd cry, and she wasn't about to stand on the sidewalk in the middle of the night and sob like a child. Her dignity wouldn't allow it. "Where are you right now?"

"I've just returned from Diego-Garcia, so I'm at the warehouse," he said, and his line crackled as he started his engine. "What is your location?"

"Outside my house."

Static hissed again and she knew he was pulling onto the road. "I'll be there shortly."

"You don't have to come all the--"

"What are friends for?" he said with a grin in his voice that made Mikaela unconsciously smile back.

"Okay...see you." She sighed, "Bye."

Mikaela hung up without waiting for his reply. She paced, hating herself more than ever. Optimus had better things to do than listen to her rant. Almost a month ago, they'd parted ways and said it was the last time. Her wounds from that were just starting to heal. Facing Optimus meant slicing each scab open all over again. It couldn't be any easier for him, either. For a split second Mikaela found herself hating him for being so amazingly good to her. Asshole boyfriends were a lot easier to break up with than nice ones.

Time crawled, rushed ahead and crawled again, arguing with her. She glanced at her watch. Only five minutes had passed.

She tried turning on her I-Pod.

_"...and if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave._   
_Your presence still lingers here...and it won't leave me alone._   
_These wounds won't seem to heal._   
_This pain is just too real._   
_There's just so much that time can not erase--"_

Mikaela shut the music off and ripped the ear buds out of her ears. The song just made her feel worse. So much for  _that_.

_God, how pathetic am I? I'm chasing somebody I'll never have. I should just wait for Sam to finish college, but I can't now. I love him and need him, dammit! Why is he running off NOW? Ugh!_

When pacing stopped passing the time, she gathered her bags and made her way onto the main sidewalk. She began to walk in the direction she knew Optimus would come from.

 _I don't have anywhere else to go. If I can work things out with Sam, maybe_ \--

A police car passed her. By instinct she checked to make sure it wasn't Barricade. It wasn't even a Saleen, so she relaxed when the car pulled over next to her. The cop who rolled down the window was a young Asian man with a heavy Vietnamese accent.

"Awfully late to be out alone, miss."

"I was at a party that sucked, so I left. Someone's picking me up," she said automatically. Her default excuse from childhood whenever the cops caught her out late at night. Glancing at his nametag, she smiled, "Don't worry, officer Pham, I'm fine."

"Hokay..." The officer didn't look pleased, but he shifted his car into gear. "Have a nice night and keep out of trouble."

"You, too."

The cop car pulled away, and she watched the red tail lights fade into the distance.

Mikaela focused only on placing one foot before the other. The world turned beneath her footsteps. She hardly felt time passing until she looked up and noticed the Chevron gas station situated half a mile from her home. She checked her watch. An hour had passed.

Jake brakes roared behind the freeway overpass wall, indicating a large truck was decelerating down the off-ramp. Headlights cast a white glow over the newly-resurfaced street. Shifting gears made the engine grunt and rumble between air brake puffs. Mikaela's gaze focused on the blue flames seemingly blazing from the silver grill of a Peterbilt as it drove by, executed a U-turn at the intersection and pulled up next to the curb with a pop-sigh. Bitter butterflies danced through Mikaela's stomach, matching exactly the tempo of the idling engine. She climbed in when the passenger door swung open. Her meager belongings fit comfortably under the dashboard. There was no scent of diesel--this truck burned a fuel not from this world--so it didn't have any fumes. The cab smelled like a new vehicle fresh off the lot.

Optimus didn't ask any questions other than, "Where would you like to go?"

"I don't care," she sighed. "Just get me out of here."

He pulled away from the curb and she watched the brightly-lit gas station shrink in the rear view mirrors. She was grateful that he didn't pressure her to talk, because at the moment she wasn't even sure how she'd explain her situation to somebody who didn't know all the ins and outs of human behavior.

They said nothing more until city lights gave way to open road. Up above, the clear summer night showered them in a celestial display of diamonds on black velvet. It was usually cloudy the few nights she journeyed to the warehouse--so to see the same sky she saw on the aircraft carrier mere weeks ago brought fleeting comfort.

Mikaela closed her eyes and the gentle vibrations from Optimus' engine lulled her into a light doze. It was still night when his jakes growled again, waking her. She looked up at the dark shape of the warehouse just ahead. A menacing black GMC Topkick was sitting in the parking lot. Optimus eased past Ironhide, jiggling over the driveway. In the absolute quiet, Mikaela heard every change in his engine and the rattle of tires crackling on the gravel.

Ironhide didn't respond to their presence.

"Ironhide is in alert recharge." Optimus noted over the hiss of his air brakes.

Mikaela nodded solemnly and felt much safer already. If anything without an Autobot signal disturbed the area, Ironhide would instantly wake up and confront the intruder.

"What about the other Autobots? Sideswipe and those twins? I thought they'd stay with you."

"Sideswipe in Washington D.C.. He will protect your president in the event of another large-scale attack. Skids, Mudflap, Jolt and Arcee are in Diego-Garcia. Arcee's repairs will take some time, however."

"Shouldn't you be out and about, too?"

"If the Decepticons wanted to attack  _me_ , it's safer if they strike somewhere unpopulated. This warehouse is a safe distance from most human dwelling, so collateral losses would be minimal."

"Good point."

They stopped talking after that. Optimus' engine shut off and his hood creaked and clicked as it cooled in the night air.

Still, the lull reminded Mikaela of the issue at hand. She was thankful Optimus didn't prod her. His hologram materialized in the driver's seat. Concern was written all over his face. He took her hand in his cool metal one and his gaze pleaded with her to tell him what caused her such grief. The unspoken words screamed a thousand echoes through her skull.

Two weeks ago, she ran into Ratchet parked at the gas station near her home. He'd called her over because, in his words, "Your levels of human chorionic gonadotropin are extremely elevated."

"It's probably the Pill. It changes my hormones around." She'd said back, having grown used to the medic randomly spouting information about her hormonal state.

"Birth control pills elevate your progesterone levels." Ratchet pointed out.

Mikaela had rolled her eyes, but when she finished her set of pills for the month and missed her period entirely, she found herself running to the store and peeing on a plastic stick. Two pink lines appeared, and then...

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

Optimus' optics flickered to her still flat stomach and back to her face. "Why is this cause for sorrow? I thought you wanted to--"

"Yes, but not right now!" Mikaela exploded, "It's messed up my life!"

He looked mildly confused. "Is that why you left home?"

"I got kicked out." Mikaela sighed. "The rules my mom laid down ever since I started having sex was I better be married when I get pregnant or I'm on my own. She can't afford to support me with a baby. She gave me a check with all the money she was saving for when I went to college and told me to get out. It won't get me far. All that prenatal crap is expensive. My dad is barely out of jail, so there's no way he can help me and I don't want to go crashing at his place." Her voice cracked when she went on, "I've already spent the last two weeks sleeping at friends' houses. I went home to get more clothes and here I am. God! How dumb is this mess? You must think I'm an idiot right now."

Optimus blinked slowly, but did not stop her. Always a listener who never interrupted unless his input was important.

"I know exactly when it happened, too. I went for two days without the Pill when we were in Egypt. Remember the closet incident I told you about? Sam and I fooled around. Ugh! How stupid could I be? We should've used a condom. Aren't we geniuses?" She slapped her own leg because she couldn't, in good conscience, bang on the windows of a living being who didn't deserve it.

"You were taking those pills for your...uh...dysmenorrheal pain, correct?"

"Yeah...but some take them to prevent pregnancy. The thing is you're supposed to take them at exactly the same time every day, no matter what. And the condom, well...Sam forgot, and I'm a moron because I thought 'oh, I'm on the Pill, I'll be fine.'" Mikaela looked over at him. "Argh! I can't believe this. Sam and I were just starting to get serious, and this happens."

Optimus seemed taken aback by how irate she was. "What does he have to say about the situation?"

_"I don't know what we'll do. I can't help right now, I'm broke."_

Mikaela closed her eyes and tightened her lips.

"He left for the university again because he can still catch up on what he missed. I tried calling him. He said he can't deal with this right now. And before you ask--no, I'm not getting an abortion. That's murder." She sighed, pressing a cool palm to her damp forehead and glad that Optimus' hand was metal instead of flesh, because the way she squeezed it would have surely broken a human hand in two. "I don't want Sam to give up his life because of this...but it's just so typical. Guys can run away, but the girls are stuck with the baby. His parents think I'm trying to trap him. Isn't that just awesome? They start out liking me and now they won't even talk to me." The tears she'd been holding back rushed to freedom and she hated herself even more for crying over this. She was so angry her body shook. "I'm right back where I was when I was ten years old. I have  _nothing_. I'm scared. I'm not ready to be anybody's mom, Optimus."

Optimus didn't bat a metal eyelid. He just held her hand while she sobbed, swore and spat. Only after she fell silent did he speak.

"You're wrong, Mikaela."

"What?" she sniffed.

"About having nothing. You're wrong." Optimus looked right into her eyes and everything  _wonderful_  that made fall in love with him shimmered in their azure glow. "You still have me."

"But--with the fighting...Barricade is still out there...and--and Megatron, and--"

"Mikaela..." He tapped on her knuckles with his thumb. "Calm down. You're tired and not thinking clearly. You panic more when you're tired. You need rest."

"I'm not--"

" _Mikaela_ ," he said in a no-nonsense tone, but the brush of his palm on her hand showed he wasn't angry. "Relax. We'll find a way to get you through this."

Leave it to Optimus to say that when he had no idea what he was in for. Though, much of his life involved decisions made almost blind, deaf and mute and futures depended on whether he said 'stay' or 'go.'

"You should rest." He nodded towards his sleeper.

Mikaela's mind raced for an excuse not to. "What if you need to transform in the middle of the night?"

"I'll wake you."

"Fine. But in the future, I'll probably stick something in the back room of the warehouse to sleep on until I find an apartment or something. No offense...I just don't want to get in the way."

Because sleeping  _inside_  Optimus would make her think even more about the relationship she wasn't supposed to have with him. Not even a month ago he'd said they wouldn't be seeing each other again for a long while, but fate intervened with this situation. Now, once again, she'd be seeing him every day. Every waking moment. This had to be just as hard for him as it was for her. She felt like such a burden.

"I'm so sorry about all this."

"Don't be." Optimus ducked into the sleeper ahead of her and turned down the blanket. "Good friends get you out of messes, but true friends sit right in the mess with you."

"Well, this is a big mess."

He winked, "I brought a poncho."

Mikaela snorted, slipped off her shoes and curled up on the mattress. It had as much give as her couch at home, but she liked firm sleeping surfaces. Optimus drew the blanket up to her shoulders. His optics were glowing blue hope in the darkness of the sleeper. He didn't look upon her with anger or disappointment--there was only compassion in his smile.

And seeing it hurt.

He rumbled, "Just speak up if you need anything, all right?"

Mikaela nodded and closed her eyes. She felt a faint breeze as his hologram dissipated.

Regardless of the pain, it was a safe feeling knowing she had someone to rely on. Optimus had all the qualities of a true friend.

She fell asleep within minutes and no one disturbed her, not even when she slept until noon.

.o

Morning sickness hit Mikaela hard. Her sense of smell seemed to go from average to super sensitive, and any scents involving garbage or, strangely, apples, sent her gag reflex into overdrive. And why was it called 'morning sickness' when she felt nauseous all day long?

Once, she puked when Ratchet mentioned apple juice. Another time, she lost her lunch when Optimus accidentally ran over a possum that darted into the warehouse parking lot at the wrong moment, and normally the sight of guts and blood didn't bother her. Then there was the time she almost upchucked on Ironhide's tailgate because she found a squashed spider on his bumper.

She felt so bad, making them put up with her running into the bathroom. Sometimes she didn't get any warning--and having three sets of optics watch her most recent meal go splat on the ground did little to comfort her. She was just glad for the water grate right outside the doors. If she got sick on the floor, she could just hose it down.

"That looks incredibly unpleasant," Ratchet commented on one particularly queasy afternoon.

"It feels unpleasant." She'd replied while wiping her mouth clean. "What are you watching that keeps making you laugh?"

" _House_. It's an enjoyable program."

"One of my favorite shows. Pop up a hologram, I'll watch with you."

Ratchet gladly obliged. It was the episode where Dr. House had to treat a mystery patient sent by the CIA. Mikaela snickered when Dr. House rolled over a bed to pick up the phone and said, "You've gotta get over here. They got a satellite aimed directly into Cuddy's vagina. I told them the chances of invasion are slim to none, buuuut..."

Slowly, Ratchet turned to look at Mikaela.

" _No_ ," she crossed her legs. "Don't even try it."

"I was merely going to state how impossible such a situation is."

"He's joking, Ratchet."

"Still--"

"NO."

When Mikaela wasn't puking, she was worrying.

Shopping for a few household necessities made her feel like a bum. The little money she had was tight at best, forcing her to buy as cheaply as possible so she'd have enough for her prenatal care until she got a job.

She bought a cheap office refrigerator-freezer combo that could hold a small carton of milk and a few other items, like eggs, ginger ale and the materials necessary for salads. Optimus spotted a microwave at a garage sale, of all places, and took Mikaela to purchase it. There was even a semi-functional electric stove that Ironhide found dumped on the side of the road. Only one front burner and the oven itself worked, but that was better than nothing. She cleaned it the best she could and hooked it up next to the emergency generator. Inexpensive cooking pots were bought from the Walmart near Mikaela's old high school.

The Christian Service ministry of a small church just inside town helped her via food distribution. Once a week she could pick up a free grocery bag. Even gas was free--the credit card Agent Simmons gave to the Autobots paid for gas. This required either a human or their holograms. Mikaela breathed a relieved sigh at this. At least she could eat, travel and sleep without worrying about money for awhile.

It was hard to enjoy her newfound ability to grab food when everything she ate came back up within an hour. Salads and bananas saved her disagreeable stomach. Lettuce with bits of chicken and cucumber chunks topped in Ranch, or a banana sliced and served in Wheat Chex cereal with a little milk stayed down at least ninety percent of the time.

Of course, the one time she let Optimus try to make a salad(which was funny in itself to watch), she forgot to inform him that tossing a salad did not mean grabbing a handful and hurling it straight up. Even though he  _did_  catch each piece he tossed in the bowl again.

"You instructed me to 'toss the salad.'" he'd said, one optic tilted in comical confusion.

"Yeah." Mikaela tried not to laugh. Not easy when she could hear Ratchet snickering in the warehouse doorway. "That wasn't what I meant. You're supposed to use the tongs and mix it up."

"I see." Optimus tipped half his mouth upwards. "You look lethargic, Mikaela. Are you all right?"

"Yeah. It's just hormones."

Optimus laid his hand on the counter next to the bowl. Right smack in a grease smear she missed cleaning up after breakfast earlier that day. He lifted his hand again and rubbed his fingers together, smearing it.

"Ack!" Mikaela hurriedly grabbed a paper towel, snatched his arm by the edge of his wrist armor and wiped the grease off his hands. Somehow the grease left a streak halfway up his forearm. She wet the paper towel under the faucet and went back to cleaning Optimus' arm.

"How long does a pregnancy last?" he asked.

"Nine months." Mikaela kept wiping.

"Then let me handle this." His other hand grasped her wrist, stopping her motion. He leaned down until their eyes were level. "Making another human being must be hard work if it takes nine months. You should decrease your activity level so your internal processes can work more efficiently."

It was how he said it that made her heart jump like a Mexican bean. He never regarded the BB-sized creature growing in her uterus as a shameful burden. His eyes, still penetrating as ever, watched her pour the dressing all over the salad and use the tongs to stir it. Nothing she did seemed too mundane for him. She didn't dare meet his gaze or she'd fall again. Feeling as she did about him carried too much guilt on its heels.

Could the weight of a too-heavy heart crush a person?

"You know what makes this whole situation stink?" Mikaela chewed a piece of chicken that tasted fantastic mixed into the dressing. "Sam went to so much trouble to get me. Sweet guy, a bit weird...but I just...gah, nevermind."

Optimus examined a piece of lettuce. He looked back at her. "You just what?"

"I wonder if he wanted me for  _me_." She took another bite and muttered, "Maybe he's scared off by how fat I'll get."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Optimus.

Mikaela stirred her salad again and took delight in the lush crunching sounds indicative of fresh ingredients. She sat down against the wall. "In high school and college, a guy can gain status for dating the 'hot girl,' and that happened to be me in high school. I kinda had a weakness for big arms and..." She blushed, "Well, that's not important now. Imagine somebody wanted to be friends with you only because they knew it'd make them famous. What if this supposed person preferred to be seen _with_  you rather than seeing  _you_?"

Optimus stood next to her while he considered his answer. Even human-sized, his legs were metallic pillars sculpted by hands not from this world.

"I would feel a tad used." He replied. "However, I find this whole situation strange, seeing as Sam appeared to genuinely care about you."

"I do love him," Mikaela chewed her bottom lip. "Guys on Earth tend to mature slower. He's not ready to be a dad...I'm not ready to be a mom, but I'm the one stuck with the baby and all the mess it brings along." There she went again, telling him things she'd never tell anybody else and not at all worried about it. "What if I can't hack it?"

Optimus closed the salad dressing bottle and set it in the door of the portable fridge, which he then nudged gently shut. It was stainless steel, just like his hands. "Perhaps your thoughts will change as this pregnancy progresses."

Mikaela ducked her head, but glanced up again and found his optics looking down at her.

He knelt to level their eyes, smiling slightly. "Life is a wonderful thing. The way it slips into being almost imperceptibly while two human beings make love. Two cells that meet and somehow know what they must do to form a unique individual. It truly is a miracle."

Heat rushed to Mikaela's cheeks the way it did whenever Sam put his arms around her. She wiped imagined sweat off her forehead and ran her hand over her hair.

"I saw what the All Spark does. Simmons used energy from it on a phone and it tried to kill us all," she frowned at him, "Are you all born fighting like that?"

"No." Optimus shook his head. "The All Spark reacted to the emotions of those in the area when it created a life. If there was fear, the new mech would come to life believing it's in danger and attack anything it sees. But when the person directing the energy was filled with  _love_ , it was entirely different."

He frowned for a moment, "Those of the Prime lineage are supposedly able to create life with their very Sparks, and I know I wasn't born from the All Spark. I had a true Spark-father--Sentinel Prime, though I didn't know that until I learned my heritage. But Megatron was born from the All Spark. We were guided into life by the mech we both called 'father.' We tend to call the mech who guides us into being a 'father' or, for those who prefer more archaic language--a 'maker.' My father's name was Orion Pax. Hm..."

Optimus let air hiss from his joints, a simulated sigh. This subject made his optics dim. "I used to hang onto his every word. He was a wonderful storyteller who dazzled me with dreams about how every star was a precious treasure. I remember it every time I look up at the night sky." His eyes were soft, remembering. "Megatron loved to challenge father's authority. Even before the Fallen twisted him, he thrived on conflict. He could never sit still when things were peaceful, but father never took any of his--er--I believe the proper slang term for it is 'sass.'"

"You guys have childhoods?" Mikaela suppressed a giggle at the very idea of Optimus being a baby--even a robot one.

"Yes, but not the way you do. My people are born with basic knowledge that grows through schooling and life experiences. I had to grow up mentally just as humans do. I ran. I played. I got into trouble and even went through a rebellious phase--namely because Megatron and I bonded before we'd reached mental maturity. We both wanted it, so we didn't see the point in waiting for the pomp and ceremony." Now Optimus' eyes were faraway, twinkling in memory, "Orion was angry with us, but, as always, we were forgiven."

"So your dad was a nice guy?"

"Oh, very much so. Firm, but extremely loving."

"What happened to him?"

"He was killed when the war broke out. It was in his last few moments that he told me the truth of my heritage, which was kept from me for as long as possible." Optimus rubbed the middle of his forehead with his fingertip. He had a glyph there, but he moved before Mikaela got a good look at it. "Primes are born, not made, and the Fallen was hunting us down, generation after generation. Orion hid me away, raising me along with Megatron because single younglings were bigger targets than two or more."

Orion Pax was just one more person Optimus saw die because of the fighting. Mikaela felt guilty for bringing him up. She looked away. "I'm sorry."

"No." His smile never wavered, "I'll see him again."

This time Mikaela could not resist smiling back. He  _believed_.

"What happened to the phone mech you saw brought to life?"

"Oh." She bit her lip, "Simmons fried it." When she saw him flinch ever so slightly, she realized Simmons had killed a newborn. A life that never truly began was torn from this world after gaining sentience in a tiny box surrounded by frightening alien creatures. That little Nokia-bot lived and died in fear. That was no way to exist! What if  _more_  Decepticons showed up and decimated the world in the nine months between now and her baby's birth?

No, forget that. Birth itself. Birth meant  _pain_.

Mikaela slapped the plastic salad bowl down and dropped her fork inside it. Bits of lettuce spilled out onto the floor. "Dammit...I'm so scared of giving birth."

"Why?" he asked.

"Look up childbirth on Youtube, Optimus, and watch."

Optimus' eyes flickered. His mouth dropped. He finally shuddered, closed his optics and scrunched his face in what seemed to be sympathy. "That looks agonizing." His eyes refocused on her, awed, "To endure that pain to create life--there is nothing more powerful."

"Women do it every day." She noticed his eyes growing faraway again as he searched the internet. "What'cha looking at now?"

"Fetal development."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." He blinked, "This would fascinate Ratchet. I think I'll pass it along to him. Do you mind?"

"Mm-mm. Go ahead." She picked up her salad and began shoveling it into her mouth. Two seconds ago she couldn't stand to look at it. Now, she'd give anything to have its entire contents in her stomach. She ate it in two minutes, embarrassed for looking like a pig. "Pregnancy is a cool transformation, I guess. From a little blob to something that looks like me. Same principle goes for you."

"All life is a miracle, Mikaela." Optimus handed her a fresh paper towel when she licked her fingers. "By the way, you have dressing on your cheek."

Mikaela flushed and wiped at her face. "Did I get it?"

"Uh...here." Optimus picked up the paper towel, reached out and dabbed at the corner of her mouth.

Their eyes met. Time ceased to be and reality sank into the glow of two brilliant blue pools. Mikaela was drowning. It took everything she had to resurface, to swim against the current while her heart clung to her ankles.

"I better go lay down for awhile. I don't puke if I rest after I eat."

"Right." Optimus blinked, coming out of his own funk. "I should go relieve Ratchet outside." He flashed her that tiny smile of his, "I cooled my cab to seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit for your comfort."

His hologram vanished before she could reply. Then the passenger door on his real body popped open and invited her in. There was a bucket next to the bunk for puking emergencies.

Mikaela laid herself down and tried to be as still as possible. Optimus assured her countless times that he received no sensory input from the mattress. But the metal wall behind her? The bunk underneath the mattress and above her? Even if the mattress itself was numb, he still had to be just as  _aware_  of her lying there as she was _aware_  she'd curled up inside a living being.

Maybe the mattress in the warehouse could wait awhile longer.


	2. Chapter 2

The cheapest clinic was fifty miles from the warehouse, set right smack in the middle of Tranquility. It was a dingy place with depressing walls and everyone inside looked terribly dejected. Round, pregnant bellies abounded in chairs almost too small for the expectant mothers to sit on. One girl there didn't look older than thirteen.

Mikaela glanced down at herself. Other than her breasts growing half a cup size bigger and feeling sore, her pregnancy wasn't outwardly obvious yet. She didn't look forward to having a basketball for a stomach.

If someone asked her later to give the details of her visit, she wouldn't be able to without breaking into tears. The thin, pale doctor she saw was rude, impersonal and spoke as if her and her baby were a waste of his time. The bastard even said her life would be easier if she got an abortion--all while giving her a pelvic!

"Yeah, well, if my baby could talk and tell me what it wants me to do, I'd let it choose," she'd said.

At least she knew she was right about being six weeks along and could expect the baby sometime in the spring. She had an appointment for an ultrasound in one month, but had no plans of coming back to this clinic where some  _man_  would treat her case like a plague.

Mikaela stopped in the restroom to puke. Then she walked to the front desk to pick up two bottles of prenatal vitamins and made her way outside to the Peterbilt waiting in the parking lot.

"Just drive," she snapped.

"Mikaela?"

"I'm never coming back here again. That doctor...I think his name was Kowalski...he's an asshole! I even heard him making fun of the teen moms sitting in the waiting room. That...jerk!" She seethed at her own tears. Hormones were already screwing up her emotions. "I should probably call Sam, but not until I calm down. Ugh. I'm tired already. PMS on steroids."

"Would you like to stop at a fast food place?"

Her stomach pinched in on itself. "No...I'm too queasy to--"

Bile crawled up her gullet. She raced to the back of his cabin to throw up in the bucket. It tasted as bitter as she felt.

"Fuck...I can't wait for my second trimester so I can quit doing this."

Mikaela felt Optimus' hologram materialize behind her. He didn't say a word--he just held her hair out of the way and rubbed her back while her stomach continued its revolt. When she finally regained control of her gag reflex, she sank against his chest. Screw it all...she wanted someone to hold her and she could deal with feeling guilty later.

"Part of me wants to give this baby up for adoption. But I know the second I see him or her...I won't be able to let go. It's like throwing a piece of myself into the world and hoping it lands in a good home. What if this baby grows up to abusive parents? What if the parents don't want it?"

"You have eight months to decide." Optimus raised her head so their eyes met. "If Sam decides to stay out of this, I will..." He blinked, "...gladly act as a father if you choose to keep this child. I know I can't offer any financial assistance, but emotionally...Mikaela, if you need me that way, I will give it to you and your child. All you have to do is ask."

Oh, God, why was he so damn wonderful and selfless? Stability in something, anything, was the one thing she worried about, and he just offered it to her like a gift.

She started to answer, but her stomach decided it wasn't finished yet. Whatever she wanted to say went into the bucket as moaning and gurgling.

.o

Needing to pee a lot grew tiresome. Mikaela read everything she could about pregnancy on the internet and knew this was coming. Still, it was embarrassing!

"Won't you dehydrate after outputting so frequently?"

She eyed Ratchet, who was busy replacing the wiring in Ironhide's torso. Ironhide was offline for the procedure because, according to Ratchet, his complaining got annoying after awhile.

"I'm putting in as much as I'm letting out." Mikaela said. She winced and adjusted her jeans--though her stomach wasn't visibly larger yet, she noticed her waistline was getting thicker and she couldn't button her jeans anymore. Which was why she had a JC Penny's catalogue flipped open to maternity clothes sitting in her lap. The outfits she liked had been circled in red marker.

At least her morning sickness was starting to ease up a little. Smells still sent her running to worship the toilet, but she didn't puke every time her stomach got too empty. She found herself craving beef a lot, so beef stews, beef sandwiches and hamburgers were her gourmet gold. Especially because Optimus learned how to make really  _awesome_  triple-stacked sandwiches with beef, lettuce and mayonnaise. He made giant messes when he put them together, but Mikaela couldn't be mad when they tasted  _so good_. She never failed to find one waiting for her at exactly noon every day--and he'd be outside in the driveway because his guard shift started at noon. So he'd give up two minutes of his time just to stop and fix her lunch.

At the moment, Mikaela was finishing one of Optimus' freaking amazing sandwiches. She brushed the crumbs off the catalogue and licked excess mayonnaise off her fingers.

"Mikaela, how did your prenatal checkup go?" Ratchet's voice called her mind back to the present. "I meant to ask earlier, but you were unwell."

"Oh." She made a face, "The obstetrician was such a jerk. Sometimes I wonder how people like that guy are allowed into the medical profession."

"Hm?" Ratchet snipped an old, burnt out wire and slipped a shiny new one into Ironhide's stomach area. "Did he offend you?"

"You bet your ass he did," Mikaela sneered. "Telling me I should abort my baby while he's giving me a pelvic...he must think everybody who gets pregnant by accident is a moron!"

"Pelvic?" he arched a metallic brow. His eyes flickered as he searched the internet before she could explain. "Oh. A procedure to check reproductive health and the progression of a pregnancy. How...invasive. Even the ultrasounds seem so primitive. It's a miracle they can even read the images. I could grant a much clearer view. In fact..." Ratchet looked down at her and his dark pupils turned suddenly white. "...I can see your embryo right now."

Then he lowered his left forearm to Mikaela's level and the armor above his wrist flipped up to reveal a lens. From it sprang a three dimensional, crystal blue image of her pelvic organs. It looked like a computer diagram. Mikaela quickly identified her own body parts--intestines, bladder, ovaries and a white speck attached to the back of her uterus.

"Can you zoom in on it?"

"Of course."

The image grew into something resembling a swollen lima bean floating inside a bubble. Her embryo had a recognizably human, though misshapen head, eye spots and tiny folds where ears were beginning to form. Its limbs looked like little flippers with finger and toe buds. Ten fingers and toes. Mikaela squinted at a strange fluttering in its chest. A lump swelled in her throat. Her baby's heart was  _beating_. She could see the blood moving through it in little pulses. A heartbeat meant  _life_.

"I can tell you the gender if you like." Ratchet said gently.

She blinked. "You can tell so soon?"

"I can sample tissue and see the chromosomes. It won't harm you or the embryo."

What was the harm in knowing? It'd give her a head start on picking a name, clothes and toys. She shrugged. "Okay. What am I having?"

Ratchet passed a device near her skin. It burned slightly, but he turned away before her eyes could take in its details. He squinted, looking a little confused for a moment, but it passed. He discarded the sample and went back to work on Ironhide. "Your embryo is female."

A girl.

Mikaela touched her stomach and it occurred to her that her baby was no longer a thing. She had a little girl inside her. A little girl with a beating heart too small for the naked eye to see. This baby was waiting for her mother's love, and from that moment on she would have it.

.o

Calling Sam again turned out to be scarier than Mikaela anticipated. Why did this frighten her now? Once, she was capable of grabbing a guy by the heart...or his crotch...and lead them anywhere she wanted while they enjoyed the status of having "the hot girl" on their arm. It used to be a game until she ran into Sam and Optimus. Suddenly it all stopped being funny. Now, being caught between them was "spaghettifying" her heart like a planet trapped amidst two black holes. She needed to pick one soon, or risk being torn apart inside.

Sam's phone rang forever. Mikaela had almost given up when he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey..." He sounded surprised that she'd called. "What's up, why's your voice echoing?"

"Not much. I'm in a bathroom where it's private." She glanced at the outdated seventies-styled fixtures and green tiles. A shower with a plastic curtain stuck out like an afterthought in the back corner. Originally, it was for emergencies like chemical spills, but now she used it for hygiene. "How's 'Bee handling things? Busted yet for having him on campus?"

"He's good. Still makes cat calls at girls, that pervert. Aaaand surprisingly, nobody bothers me about having him here." Sam chuckled. "How's life for you? Puking a lot?"

She winced, praying the idea wouldn't turn her stomach inside out. "Not as bad as the last few weeks."

Sam sighed and rattled his phone around. "I'm trying to get a job. The money in my scholarship only paid to get me in. I've got nothing I can give you."

"I'm going to start looking for a job pretty soon." Mikaela jumped in before the silence grew too awkward. She kept fiddling with the earphone cord on her black I-Pod, which was clipped to a belt loop on her jean shorts. "Maybe when you finish with the semester, we can--"

"God...Mikaela...is this going where I think it is?"

She winced and coils of tension wrapped around her spine. "Where do you think it's going?"

"I'm not ready for that. I love you, but geez, we're barely twenty."

Sam just gave her his answer. Clear as crystal and more bitter than bile. She balled the earphone cord in her fist and squeezed back tears. No way was she letting Sam hear her blubber on the phone.

"I'm not ready for this either, but guess who has to deal with the baby? Guess who has to go through the childbirth pain? Guess who has to raise her, wipe her ass, change her diapers and feed her? Guess  _who_ , Sam!"

"Her? Mikaela--"

"Exactly! Me! And yeah, we're having a daughter. Ratchet told me so."

"Ratchet? You're staying with them?"

Mikaela's temper burned her eyelids. "Yes. Mom kicked me out."

Silence. Sam was still on the line because she could hear him breathing, but he didn't know what to say.

"I'm not asking you to give up college, Sam."

"I can't get married right now. I just can't. I'd love to, but I-I can't."

"Why not?" Even as she asked the question, Mikaela felt an odd relief that he was being honest. Better she learn about Sam's idea of commitment now, before it ruined a marriage.

Distress entered his voice. The quiver of uncertainty that usually accompanied him fidgeting with whatever he held in his hands. "I'm just not ready to settle down yet. You're great and all, really, and you're awesome at sex, but getting  _married?_  That's jumping way too far ahead for me. Maybe if this happened five years from now when we had jobs and could afford it..."

"So you went to all this trouble to get me to like you, and then you take off the second things don't go the way you thought it would? You don't want to try and make this work with me?"

"Aw, Mikaela. I-I-I want to help you out with money. Maybe if I--"

"Don't bother!" She blew up, "I'll figure it out myself!"

"Mik--"

"There's someone here I can fall back on. If you don't want to be a dad, he will. So this is it, Sam. Do we cut  _us_  off now?"

Now it was Sam's turn to sound cold. "Hey, I didn't ask for this!"

"Neither did I!"

"Who is it?"

"What?"

"Who is it? This other guy. Who? Somebody I know?"

"Yeah."

He sighed heavily. "Is it Trent?"

"No." Mikaela steeled herself for the knockout blow. She knew this was childish, yet in her furious state she didn't see any mature way to deal with it. If Sam couldn't handle a baby...well  _this_  could be  _his_  problem.

Sam prodded, "Who is it, Mikaela?"

"It's Optimus," she said.

"The Boss?" Sam's voice crackled over the line.

"Yeah. We're a lot closer than you think..."

Without taking a breath, she poured out everything between the prom and now. She knew it was ruining everything between them...but keeping the secret hurt too much. And the immature part of her felt he deserved it for getting her pregnant and running off. She didn't want him to forfeit his dreams--yet, at the same time, it irked her that he wouldn't put them off for a few years and help her raise the daughter he helped create.

"...I didn't ask to fall for him. I didn't try to, it just happened." Mikaela paused and licked her lips. Her eyes burned with the effort of holding back tears. "Like this baby. It just  _happened_."

Dead silence greeted her after she finished talking.

"...are you shitting me?" Sam asked. "Are you  _shitting_  me?"

"Did you ever hear me when I said I wasn't a 'good' girl?"

Time spun out of control. Sam was just a blur in a greater whole.

"You--were messing around behind my back. With  _him_  of all people." He practically shrieked, "Trent I can see, but with Opti--uh,  _the Boss?_  A freaking  _truck?_ That's...that's sick! Oh, my God, all those times I saw you two talking and--how can you even kiss him? It's like licking batteries! God, Mikaela! Are you joking?" Mikaela's cell phone earpiece made a popping sound when Sam's nervous laugh blasted right into the mouthpiece of his phone. "Please tell me this is a bad joke."

Sam's words stabbed something deep in Mikaela's chest. The dread of it spread throughout her body. He didn't understand. She never expected him to, but she didn't anticipate his derision  _hurting_  like this.

"I'm not kidding, Sam."

"Oh, perfect. I thought getting tongue-probed by that freaky robot girl wanting into my brain was gross enough, but you were having  _sex_  with--"

" _He's_  the one that told me I was better off with  _you_." Mikaela switched the phone to her other ear and paced around the tiny bathroom "Tch, you know what? You're just like every other guy. You run off the second you screw up. Just run, Sam, and  _keep_  running!"

His voice cracked, "Were you using me?"

"No. God, Sam...no." Mikaela said honestly. She sympathized with him while simultaneously wanting to berate him about how much he made  _her_  feel used. Maybe he didn't mean to. Maybe he didn't realize how his behavior affected her. Maybe she was rationalizing too much. "I wouldn't have called to try and work this out if I didn't care about you. I...I never expected things to happen like this."

"Holy shit..." Sam thumped something in the background. "When I find a job, I'll try and send you some money once a week. Fifty bucks at the very least, no matter what. I hope it'll be enough to keep you and the baby healthy."

"I dunno." Mikaela's eyes were welling over and she wasn't sure whether the tears were for their relationship ending or her own self pity. "I-I'm sorry, Sam."

"Me, too," he replied. Not angry or bitter, just sad.

"Sam?"

"What--"

"Don't be mad at Optimus over this."

"I know, I know...they aren't shy about being intimate. God, this is crazy. How did you two even--wait, no, I don't want to know. I gotta go." But before he hung up, he added, "Get a P.O. box. Never know who might be watching and we don't want anybody seeing our  _friends_."

"Yeah, okay." Mikaela's desire to continue this conversation was draining faster than water through grating. "I'll text you the info when I do it."

"Fine. Maybe when I finish here, I'll try and work something else out. Child support or--"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sam." Mikaela knew he probably wouldn't want to touch her again after knowing she had sexual relations with a living, feeling machine. Maybe the fact that they weren't human grossed him out. Whatever the reason, his refusal to try and see things from her perspective made her angry. "Sorry that I interfered with your perfect little life!"

"Whatever. Just get the P.O. box."

"Fine. Bye."

Then she hung up and dropped the phone on the shelf above the toilet. She knew she hurt his feelings. Her life was a rubber band that snapped and smacked everybody in its vicinity. Sam happened to be in the direct line of fire, so he walked away with the welts. God, what if she hurt Optimus next?

Something huge rapped on the door. A familiar baritone called out, "Mikaela? Are you all right?"

"Not really. C-can I please just be alone for awhile?"

Optimus didn't force the issue, he merely said. "Bumblebee informed me of what happened. I'm available if you want to talk."

"What if you're recharging?" she shot back.

If her tone put him off, it didn't show in his reply. "Wake me. I won't mind."

His joints hissed and the ground shook ever so slightly as he moved away from the bathroom door. Mikaela waited until she couldn't hear him anymore. She turned the sink on full blast and indulged in a hard, painful twenty-minute-long cry. Hormones, she figured, acted like a magnifying glass for her emotions. She did not leave the bathroom until she'd washed all evidence of crying off her face.

No one bothered her when she emerged. Optimus transformed into vehicle mode without a word. She climbed inside, made her way into his sleeper and stretched out on her stomach across the mattress.

His radio was playing softly. She recognized the song.

_"...don't let yourself go!_   
_Everybody cries--_   
_and everybody hurts..._   
_sometimes..."_

"You did a brave thing," Optimus' voice spoke from the speaker on the wall next to the bunk.

"I ruined everything." Mikaela sniffed. "I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to regret! Letting myself go too far that prom night--no, no, I don't regret that. I don't regret helping you cry. I don't regret the aircraft carrier. I don't regret the cross-country ride. I don't regret you. What's pissing me off is I can't have both of you."

No response, but she knew he was letting her get all her thoughts out. Listening, always listening...

Mikaela rolled over on her back and wiped a hand through her dark hair. Somehow, her internal organs were all one giant knot behind her breastbone. "I'm beginning to think we really can't control who we fall for. If your heart says you like somebody, it doesn't care who you're with at the time. If it's not that person, nothing's going to happen. Or things do happen and something fucks it all up. I guess I just..." She sighed, no sure whether to laugh or cry, "...never thought I'd feel like I do about someone ten billion years older and twenty three feet taller than me."

_"Everybody hurts..._   
_Take comfort in your friends..."_

"If it makes you feel any better, I never thought I'd feel as I do about an organic. I, too, struggle with myself while Megatron is out there. Deep down, I know he is beyond saving. When I thought he was gone...our first dance was a lifetime of my emotions coming to the surface. I did not expect events to...mudslide..."

She giggled despite her sullen mood. "Snowball, you mean?"

He chuckled. "Yes, that too."

"Me, either. I mean...yeah, at first seeing you transform freaked me the hell out. But once you talked your voice just kind of...um...changed things. You sound so human. You sound like somebody people should listen to."

"I synthesized my voice off a cellular phone signal I picked up as I was landing. When I think about it, it was the driver in the truck I scanned. But we're getting off the subject." Optimus' hologram materialized next to the emergency barf bucket. He folded his hands on the frame of the top bunk, bent one leg and rested his forehead against his clasped fingers, his gaze soft as he met her eyes. The sun burned across his chassis until the flames on his paint job threatened to consume her. Did he have _any_  idea how human that pose looked? "I am rather unsettled over Sam. I thought he was wiser than this."

"No, Optimus...don't get mad at him. I really don't blame him for running off. I would too. And I  _could_...but I won't murder my baby."

"Abortion?"

"Yeah. I won't do it. It'd make my life easier, but it's not fair for the baby. Even if I did it, got married and had another one, it wouldn't be  _this_  baby."

His 'eyebrows' slowly lifted, "Then you are in the belief that life chooses its way?"

"I like to think so. Maybe..." This was one of those tangents she'd never go on with anybody else. "Maybe we all get to choose our mothers, but whatever pre-life memories we have are wiped out so we can start fresh. This little girl chose me. I don't know why, but it wouldn't be fair to kick her out because she had bad timing. Shit...I'm scared to death about what I'll do for money and housing and all that...but I don't think I'll apologize for anything when I see her face to face."

He held her gaze and his optics shimmered. "Megatron said something similar, once."

"Hm?"

"When our war started. He told me that he would never regret the moment we bonded. This was around the time the Fallen began to twist him. I wasn't sure what to believe until we met again in that...that other realm." His eyes were sad. "Now I just hold to  _that_  memory of him and tell myself the Megatron I see now isn't  _my_ Megatron. The mech I loved died the day he fell under the Fallen's spell."

Mikaela reached out and rubbed the side of his arm. "Hey, Optimus?"

He focused on her.

She went on, "I'm not going to be around forever. But...God, this is going to sound so cheesy...but, do you think you could stick around and be in the life of my kid, and..."

"Watch over your descendants?"

"Yeah. A piece of me will be in them. So that means you'll be talking to a piece of me in a hundred years if my kids keep having kids."

"Ah..." Optimus blinked slowly. His optics scrunched as if the idea both pained and amused him. "I would be honored to do that for you."

That made her smile. Already, she felt a million times better than she did in the bathroom. The conversation with Sam ached like a cracked tooth in the back of her mind--but at least it wasn't anywhere near the saw cutting her soul in half when she tried to leave Optimus.

"I think love works the same way as life," she said. "We don't pick who we fall for. I think we just 'know' when we find them."

"I believe the same." Optimus smiled at her. "Sam asked me about this once. He wondered how I could know Megatron was 'the one' when I'd never seen anyone else. I was honest when I said that once I saw him, there  _was_  no one else." Then he ducked his head a bit. "I also believe we're allowed to find more than one perfect love in life, because the situation is the same when I look at you. It has been ever since our first dance."

And the world stood still for a beat.

Mikaela swallowed hard and peered up at his serious expression. His optics burned through her with a fire she'd only seen when he was at the height of sexual ecstasy.

The silent message his words conveyed resonated in her heart:

_When I look at you, I see YOU_.

Then he went on and his voice was a wall of fierce, distant thunder. "And it is my love that will keep me near you and your descendants for as long as I am able. I swear on my Spark that I'll watch over and protect them."

The intensity in his eyes set her mind on fire. She realized he would do  _anything_  for her.

Mikaela laid her hands on her stomach. Denying how she felt proved impossible when the perfect someone was looking at her with such passion. Screw the guilt--Optimus could meet her needs. Why should she feel ashamed of finding somebody so right for her? Who cared if he wasn't exactly born on Earth? He was alive--able to laugh, cry, scream in pain, feel pleasure and survive a near  _death_  experience--and in her eyes that was good enough.

Besides, above all else in life, Mikaela wanted to be a mom. A big, white wedding would have been nice...but she couldn't see herself wearing the fancy dress with a veil when she wasn't even a virgin. And why get married to a man she'd probably end up divorcing because there was no passion between them?

Passion was what she had with Optimus. Passion was the thing missing from every other relationship she'd ever been in. It glimmered on his fingertips when he reached down and brushed a strand of hair off her brow.

"You're deep in thought." He said.

"How'd you know?"

"The frequency of your eye blinks dropped ten percent."

Mikaela scratched her nose and smiled. Her heart ached less when she let it turn towards the one it craved most. The world and what it thought did not matter while his fingertips lingered on the shell of her ear.

"Optimus," she clasped his hand, "it looks like you're going to be a dad."

"Hm, and to a daughter," he winked at her. With his eyes lit up the way they were, it looked like a star twinkling. "I better do my homework. Last I heard, children don't come with instructions tattooed to their backsides."

That made her snicker and slap at the grating on his abdomen. "Parenthood would be boring if it worked that way. But I'll be counting the days until I get to see you change a diaper. That's going to be funny."

"You're assuming such duties would activate my gag reflex. Seeing as I have no sense of smell or a gag reflex, the odors of an infant's bowel movements will have absolutely no effect on me." He raised a brow without breaking his smile, a look of utter mischief. "So that means the joke is on you."

"Bowel movement." Mikaela rolled her eyes, "You sound like a doctor."

"You're the one that started this discussion about..." He paused to search for a suitable slang word, "...poop."

She tried not to burst out laughing. He looked as though uttering the word 'poop' would have him shot by a firing squad.

_How insane is this?_ she mused to herself, _I'm discussing baby poop with a robot who doesn't even go to the bathroom. Wait_...

"Hold on. You guys pee, don't you?" Mikaela made a face, "Bumblebee..."

Optimus smacked his palm into his face and shook his head. "He was behaving inappropriately. But yes, I supposed the removal of old fluids, like lubricant or oil, and replacing it with new is the same as...uh...expelling liquid waste materials. Which reminds me--you seem to be doing so more frequently than normal."

Mikaela felt heat spread through her cheeks. "Yeah...I know. It's supposed to be like that. I'm not going to shrivel up like a raisin."

"Ah. Then my concerns were unwarranted. And, speaking of raisins...hungry?"

He had to ask. The moment she thought of food, her stomach waffled between nausea and hunger. Nausea won and she bolted past him to hunch over the emergency bucket.

"Just..." She spat between heaves, "...a few more weeks of this. Morning sickness my ass..."

Optimus stayed behind her the whole time and his reassuring hands rubbed her shoulders between heaves. When she picked her head up with strings of spit dangling off her lips, he merely plucked a Kleenex from her pocket and gently wiped it away without the least bit of disgust.

"I never did have the opportunity to father a youngling," he said softly, smoothing her hair. "Perhaps this is my chance."

"You'd be a great dad, Optimus." Mikaela replied. She took the tissue from him and leaned against his calming presence. "But it's going to be fun explaining why we're so different when she's old enough to ask."

"No, the fun thing will be explaining where babies come from on Cybertron."

"What do you plan to say?"

Optimus smiled at her. "'Ask your mother.'"

"Oh, thanks! Then that means I get to send her to you when she asks where human babies come from."

He pretended to shoot himself in the head and Mikaela's despairing thoughts dissolved into laughter.

_"...'cause everybody hurts--_   
_sometimes..._   
_So hold on._   
_Hold on..._   
_Hold on..._   
_Everybody hurts._   
_You are not alone..."_


	3. Chapter 3

A week and a half passed.

Sam held true with his promise. He got a job delivering pizzas, something he said Bumblebee wasn't too happy about because Sam had to drive a company car.

Within two days of getting a post office box a mile inside town, Mikaela found a check for fifty dollars. Sam's timing couldn't be better--she could only fit herself into a pair of sweats with an adjustable drawstring, and her oldest, most stretched-out bra felt like it cut off all blood to her boobs. No more denying it. Time for maternity clothes and she didn't know how she'd afford them.

Optimus drove her all the way to the mall. He couldn't go inside, not even with a human hologram, but she found a solution. Her phone had a camera. Every time she tried on an outfit, she stood by the mirror and took a photo that she emailed to him. He'd text her with his opinion. He was  _very_  honest, not at all afraid to say something if an outfit didn't suit her. She tested him by trying on a gaudy green muumuu. His truthful response?

"Blech!"

He  _did_  laugh when she showed him a white shirt with "Bun in the oven" scribbled over an arrow pointing to her belly.

Mikaela was pleased at the array of tank tops and jeans. Her usual clothing style didn't need to change too drastically. She could even wear unbuttoned flannel shirts over the tank tops. Her only annoyance was a lot of the blouses had ruffles or lace, which she hated and rarely wore.

Underwear came next. There were many colors of bikinis and thongs to choose from. Good, she didn't have to wear granny panties. The older woman working the desk was wonderful in helping her select bras that would accommodate her rapidly changing body. Mikaela didn't fuss over style. It wasn't like Optimus cared whether her underwear were lacy or plain. In fact...in all the time she'd known him...he'd never seen so much as her nipples. He'd touched them, but he never actually  _looked_.

The way her mood seemed almost...giddy...felt so weird. She thought she'd be upset over Sam. But no, instead, she found herself content with everything. Maybe it was knowing she had support that wouldn't leave her.

When she'd exhausted herself so much that she couldn't carry her bags into the warehouse, Optimus volunteered to assist. His hologram looked downright funny with shopping bags in both hands. It was one of those images that just did not fit logically. Like watching him sit in the driver's seat of his cab. Or seeing him make one of his crazy-tasty sandwiches.

"How did you figure that sandwich out?" She had to ask.

"Ah," Optimus set his creation on a saucer and offered it to her, "I figured the different textures would be pleasurable." He winked at her, "Considering the speed at which you consume them, I was right."

"Ugh, you're worse than sitcoms!" Ironhide growled out the door.

"And you're worse than a pornographic movie," Ratchet commented as he rolled in from guard duty.

_Here they go again_ , Mikaela ducked her head and pretended not to notice the good-natured arguing match going on.

"Meet me in the field and I'll show you pornographic," Ironhide said. His optics had a predatory gleam. He stuck his little finger in Ratchet's tail pipe and the Hummer's sirens howled. Tires screeched as Ratchet wiggled free and rolled back outside.

"We'll be right back, sir." Ironhide told Optimus...right before he transformed and chased Ratchet into the field. The burning rubber smell faded to the quiet of a suddenly-empty room.

"They have been insatiable all week," Optimus muttered, shaking his head. "Actually, it's a good sign...they are one of the most...ahem...active couples I know."

Mikaela finished her sandwich in silence. If she tried to talk, she'd laugh and she didn't want to waste any of her food. Only after she swallowed the last bite did she speak up, "Rabbits."

"Excuse me?"

"They hump like rabbits. Constantly."

He looked straight into her eyes and laughed. "Perfect analogy!"

Later, Optimus helped her clean the cobwebs and dust out of a storage closet so she could store her new clothes. The pegs for hanging tools made arranging her shirts, pants and complete outfits a snap.

She didn't miss the way Optimus smiled when she hung up anything red. There were quite a few red garments--two tank tops, a turtleneck and a deep crimson sweater.

"You sure like red." Mikaela said. She took out a red halter top styled much like the bodice of her prom dress and held it up in front of her for Optimus to see. It was the one thing she didn't tell him she was buying, and she did not miss the way he looked twice.

"It reminds me of the night we shared. The color suits you." He turned fully towards her, their faces only a few inches apart. "It also reminds me of the first few moments of my life. I came to consciousness in a red room."

"Really..." Mikaela found herself drowning in his gaze. "What's it like?"

"Coming to life? Hm..." Optimus tapped his mouth plates together in thought, his equivalent to a human clicking their tongue, "I suppose it is similar to how you feel when awakened suddenly from a sound sleep. There is nothing and suddenly... _awareness_." He blinked slowly. "Do you remember the moment you became conscious?"

"Mm-mm." She shook her head, "Nope. Memory doesn't go back that far. Probably a good thing. Who wants to remember being shoved out of a nice, warm, dark place and pulled into a bright room with scary people who stick things in your mouth and poke your feet with needles?" Biting her lip, she hung the halter top on its own peg. "I don't know what I'm going to do about having this baby...but I know for damn sure I won't have her in a hospital. They give you drugs, they bother you...I don't want that. I want to let my body do what it's made to, not follow what some doctor wants. Long labors run in my family and I absolutely do  _not_  want a C-section." She puckered her mouth, sucking a piece of lettuce out from between her front teeth the way her dad used to. "I still have a lot of time to plan--but I really want to avoid the hospital."

"Why would they intervene with nature?"

"Nature?" she scoffed. "Forget it in a hospital. My mom went there thinking she could have me naturally. Of course, when the pain got stronger than she anticipated, the doctors were really happy to give her an epidural. Her contractions stalled, so they gave her pitocin. Then the epidural wore off so they gave her another dose. She was hooked up to monitors, so she was stuck lying flat on her back when she wanted to get up and walk. Her labor went on and on, and they don't even let you eat in the hospital in case you need surgery, so she had no energy. Eight hours later it was time to push, but by then she was so exhausted and couldn't feel anything below her boobs. So she couldn't push. They did a C-section to get me out."

"That's terrible!"

"I know." Mikaela narrowed her eyes, sighed and shook her head, "My mom went in a perfectly healthy woman who was in total control and came out barely able to take care of me for six weeks. All because the doctors wouldn't leave her alone. I don't  _want_  that. The idea of labor pain scares the shit outta me, but I want it to mean something. I don't want to go through it only to have somebody throw my plans out the window because I cracked and screamed for pain relief."

Optimus tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He appeared to dream for a moment or two before refocusing on her. "I will support whatever choice you make in this matter."

Just like that. No arguing.

Straightening, Optimus stepped back. He didn't notice the empty shopping sack on the floor behind him. His foot slipped on the plastic. The bag still in his hand went flying straight up while he crashed backwards with an impact that jarred his radio into playing  _Yakety Sax_. Loudly. To top it off, everything in the shopping bag he was holding spilled across his body.

For several seconds the only sound was a rasping saxophone.

Mikaela gawked at Optimus sprawled on his back with bras dangling off his ear finials, bras stuck to his air filters, a bra trapped in his left knee joint and one tangled between his chest plates. He blinked and slowly lifted his foot, which now had the shredded remains of a Sears bag clinging desperately to the metal sole.

"This is quite a predicament," he said. The radio  _finally_  switched to a less obnoxious station and dropped to a barely audible volume. "I hope I didn't damage your merchandise."

"Oh, my God..." Mikaela covered her mouth and doubled over in helpless laughter. She tugged the plastic mess off his foot and tossed it in the trash bin next to the makeshift closet. He seemed genuinely afraid to touch the bras--probably worried he'd tear the fabric--but it was still funny watching him look at them like they were about to eat him.

She controlled herself enough to kneel by his shoulder and pluck the bras off his antennae. One had gotten itself wedged in the actual plating of his head, requiring her to twist, tug and wiggle before it came free. This meant her fingertips touched and brushed him several times. She did not miss the growing heat forming around his body like an aura. "I thought you Autobots were supposed to be graceful."

Optimus' servos whirred when he twisted his head to look up at her. "My fall was  _very_  graceful. You just weren't looking."

"Mm," Mikaela leaned over to grab another bra off his left leg. Her loose hair fell over her shoulders, brushing against his chest and cheek. Despite having her breasts almost in his face, he still focused only on her eyes. She knew because she glanced down to say, "Let's give it a nine point nine, just shy of ten since I didn't see the execution."

He blinked and quirked his lip plates in a way that told her something witty was on the way out of his mouth.

"Falling for you requires no effort. Shall I repeat the performance?"

"Nah." She turned around and seated herself on his stomach. No sense denying the direction this conversation was going. "Don't want to run the risk of injuries."

"Hm, good point."

_Now_  Optimus was aroused. Mikaela could tell by the way he watched her like a target caught in his sight. A seductive look she had no hope of escaping even if she wanted to.

"Hey," she said, swallowing to steel herself. "Remember that submission you did to beautiful agony dot com?"

"Yes." His index fingers drew spirals on her arms and her hands curled.

"Why'd you do it? Aren't you worried about being exposed?"

His fingertips moved to her hands, turning them over so his thumbs could draw invisible patterns on her palms.

"I considered that, yes, but realized I could easily conceal where we live by filming outdoors." He frowned, his eyes blue embers in the silver of his angled features, "Those who witnessed Mission City, Shanghai and Egypt sometimes comment about us on message boards. Many people assume we are just machines who exist only to fight. I want this world to know we are more than that, so I let them see me at my most vulnerable. It must be working...so far I have 'turned on' over five thousand people."

Now his touch moved to her legs, circling her knees, diving to her calves and rising again over the swell of her thighs. She did nothing to stop their motion because there  _was_  no stopping him.

"I was one of them, you know." Mikaela reached for the red bra trapped between Optimus' chest plates. It had somehow wrapped itself around the armor protecting his Spark chamber. Heat pooled somewhere deep in her belly. She freed a strap, letting it fall with a click on the hottest part of his chest, and his innards trembled. "You...you totally  _lost_  it on camera."

"I...always do when I overload," whispered that voice of his, that incredible, deep, smoky baritone that crossed her mind like a brewing thunderstorm.

"You're different with me. You seem to hold back."

"It's for your safety." He blinked. "My hands are strong enough to break your limbs. If I have my arms around you when--"

Mikaela's eyes darkened. She wiggled the bra free of his plating and passed it deliberately over his Spark chamber doors. "Then I have a suggestion." She threw the underwear over her shoulder, pinned his hands to his sides and leaned closer, whispering into his audio. "Don't touch me."

Then she laid her hand flat between his chest plates and he arched into her. Within seconds his armor made the same crackling noises she heard when she touched a TV screen.

"Ooh..." Optimus grasped her elbows. "That tingles!"

"Ah-ah. Hands off, pal."

Optimus' hands darted back as if burned. He laced his fingers together above his head. "Yes,  _ma'am_ ," he purred in a deliberate attempt to egg her on.

It worked.

Mikaela forced herself not to slide backwards where the vibrations of his revving engine were the strongest. She pressed two fingers into his Spark chamber doors and contacted his essence. Then...not quite sure what to do...she made walking motions with her fingertips.

Every part of Optimus clenched in a whole-body spasm. "Ohhh,  _WOW!_ "

"Oh!" Mikaela jerked her hand away. Her arm tingled as he dropped backwards, shaking, and laid there with his eyelids closed. His intakes hissed in deep cycles much like human breathing.

"Optimus? Are you okay?"

"I'm...I'm fine." Optimus opened his eyes. "Whatever you just did...do it  _again._ "

He trusted her enough to touch his soul. This wasn't an honor he granted just anyone.

Not one to deny, Mikaela resumed exactly what she was doing and Optimus writhed beneath her. No matter how many times she witnessed him in this state, it was always surreal to her. Emotions he usually kept in check flickered over his face. His optics dilated and azure light shone brilliantly around his pupils despite the sunlight shining across his features. Twin eclipses pulled her into their hidden darkness, a nameless realm where love and anger drove each other to electrical ecstasy. He looked nowhere besides her eyes, as if she alone held everything he could ever want in life. Her body reacted and she realized he was making love to her with his gaze alone. He'd been forbidden to touch her, so he used his  _eyes_.

She slowed her fingertips to half their speed and his intake valves released broiling air. Static made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

"M-Mikaela," Optimus groaned. It sounded like pain, but she knew now he felt quite the opposite. "That feels... _wonderful!_ "

Mikaela inserted her fingers completely into his chamber. His actual Spark wasn't hot at all, though it seemed to heat the surrounding area. It had texture--barely substantial like trying to grasp fog--but physical enough to feel it swirl and pulse in response to her touch. Her movements made it sparkle and flare like a tiny supernova.

"Unh!" Optimus tipped his head back, his facial plates grinding together in a slow grimace that made him both precious and fierce. It was truly amazing how stroking a seemingly innocent part of his chest could drive him up the wall.

"Feel good?"

"Very..." He reached up to brush his fingers over her cheek.

Mikaela grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands above his head.

"I said no touching," she whispered, smiling as her fingers resumed their rhythm. "You're being a bad bot."

"I--sincerely--apologize for my...mm...m-my behavioral misconduct," Optimus sputtered, his voice laced in static.

Mikaela watched his Spark swell until it protruded well outside its chamber. She thought it resembled a delicate bubble surrounding a star. Her hand was completely engulfed in its frail outer "shell." All of the energy powering his body was right there around his essence, begging her to release it.

Optimus had pretty much left the building by then. His eyes were fluttering, his intakes cycled a mile a second, he was shaking like a leaf and low moans issued from his half-open mouth. His fate rested entirely in her hands. She moved her fingers back an inch and he arched forward to remain in contact.

"Almost...almost..." He clawed at the ground above his head, "Oh...please... _please_..."

Mikaela remembered what he said in his confession video and stuck her fingers straight into the light. The glowing shell "popped" and sent brilliant white waves washing backwards into his chest.

" _Ohhh!_ " Optimus slapped his hands down hard on the floor and jerked his head to the side. He met her eyes and  _growled_  her name from the depths of his being. Everything about him opened like the clearest sky. She could feel his Spark throbbing in static waves that sent his joints twitching. His innards throbbed so hard she heard the knock-knock sounds of his engine pistons and the whir of his crankshaft. Chaos reigned through his body and he still had enough sense to stare straight into her soul.

"Mikaela..." He whispered. Then his overload tapered off, forcing him offline to reboot his systems. His hologram flickered without fully disappearing.

Mikaela drew back and laid her hands flat on his chest plates. Heat spilled from his intake system while she waited for him to come back online.

Suddenly, Mikaela's world flipped. She found herself on her back with Optimus leaning over her, his face so close their noses nearly touched. Strong metal hands wrapped around her thighs and guided her legs about his waist.

"You aren't the only one who can dominate," he rumbled in her ear. "I seem to recall a certain confession video on a certain website where you mentioned having another dominate and manipulate you was a...powerful turn-on."

_Oh, God_... Mikaela's entire body burned for him. "Y-yeah...I did."

"Then, Mikaela..." Optimus' voice was audible sex to her ears. And he knew it. He  _knew_. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Melting with desire, she traced his jaw and breathed, "Or what?"

"Or I hold you down." Optimus grasped her wrists, collected them in his left hand and slammed them down against the floor above her head. Not so hard it hurt, but firm enough that he meant business. "Let me see  _your_  agony performance in person."

"Is that an order?"

" _Yes_." He hissed. It was like thunder and explosions ringing through Mikaela's mind. He sat up on his knees, pulling her with him until her weight rested fully in his lap, and rearranged her arms so they were firmly trapped behind her back. She quickly discovered his individual fingers were incredibly strong--his grip felt like handcuffs and no matter how much she pulled she could not break it.

"Mm..." Mikaela trembled at the sensations of hard, hot metal practically wrapped around her body. Optimus had full control, but one word from her and he'd let her go. She could never fully trust anyone this way. He was fulfilling one of her greatest fantasies.

They were face to face, nose to nose, his shining blue optics the only visible objects in her world. His engine cycled in waves and his lip plates came so close they touched her ear. He spoke slightly louder, his voice commanding, "Show me the woman who loses herself."

Mikaela tried to reply. Whatever she wanted to say got lost in the warm stainless steel fingertips sliding under her shirt. They slipped her bra down and she arched when he touched her. His fingers were metal flames driving her into insanity. He massaged her ever so gently while delivering tiny electric shocks that wrenched moans from her throat. Somehow, he held her in a state of almost-pain. Coupled with his engine vibrations she knew she wouldn't last much longer.

"Show me," Optimus brushed his mouth across her neck.

"Ohhh, God..." The world didn't have enough air.

"Show me, Mikaela." His tone reminded her of Erik commanding Christine to sing in  _The Phantom of the Opera_.

"Oh..." Aching heat formed in the pit of her stomach. Sweat layered her face and arms, plastering loose strands of hair to her cheeks. She mewled softly, biting her bottom lip and grinding against him. Her flesh, blood and bones were no longer her own. They were all his.

Optimus grasped her jaw and looked her square in the eyes.

" _Show_  me," he said. "Now!"

That did it.

Mikaela felt the deflagration build and spread and reality swirled as her entire body rocked in delightfully violent spasms. She stopped caring that her face was blotchy, that the veins in her throat stood out and the noises she made sounded like murder. There was nothing in existence beyond glowing azure and sensual thunder.

"Yes, Mikaela," Optimus dropped his voice to its lowest register, " _scream_  for me."

She yelled his name in his audio. That became the only sound she could make--his name. Her ecstasy stretched on and on as if her entire body had become its own orgasm. Sensations flowed and ebbed until the buffeting waves came with less intensity. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the tension gradually abated to pleasant tingling. Her body felt like putty, her internal organs were mush and her mind floated in a pool of satisfaction.

Mikaela felt Optimus release her hands. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Metal lips be damned, she had to kiss him as a thank you for that incredible moment. He pressed gently back, returning it the best he could.

"I've missed your kiss. It's so soft," Optimus whispered. How remarkable! Seconds ago he was this incredibly sexual creature who came onto her like a storm, and in the blink of an eye he'd returned to a gentle, friendly person whose smile was the sun while their shared afterglow became a rainbow. His light and dark sides coexisted seamlessly, never warring for control.

"Um, Mikaela?"

She blinked drowsily, "Huh?"

"You leaked."

"I know. It's your fault."

He chuckled and supported her back while he shifted to sit against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. She hardly had to move--and it wasn't like she'd be capable after all the energy she expended. Right now she was content relaxing against his chest.

"I didn't know  _you_  liked to be dominated," Mikaela remarked.

"Mmhmm." He closed one eye in a wink, "Sometimes, I enjoy taking orders. Still, it's also just as fun to give them."

Mikaela smiled and let her head drop onto his shoulder. She traced his right cheek until her fingertip encountered the glyph engraved in the metal.

"What is this for?"

"It's my name." Optimus said.

"Oh." Her eyes drifted up to his helm when a scratch on middle of his forehead caught the light. Except it wasn't a scratch; it was a script-like symbol engraved into the chrome. It looked vaguely like a number three and a stylized lowercase 'h' sitting on a fence.

No, not just a symbol, it had a meaning. The word flitted in and out of her head from nowhere like a dream.

_Prime_.

The etchings all over his left cheek, helm and ear finials started to swim and glow gold like holographic projections. Mikaela wiped her eyes and the strange flickering stopped. Optimus didn't notice her lapse and went on talking.

"Our text is...it's many times more complex than yours. The information Sam was seeing was the language of the Primes, which not many know. Modern Cybertronian is simpler to us...but probably endlessly complicated to you. One character may encompass several meanings depending on the context in which it is used. There is also an 'alphabet' for foreign language syllables. However, your name is rather unique. It's an actual word in my language. Here." He stole the stub of a pencil she always kept in her back pocket and dragged a fallen Sears receipt closer so he could print her name. His handwriting was absolutely pristine, and he dotted the "i" with a circle rather than tapping it. Then he moved down and drew lines and curls that resembled a stylized, upside down triangle standing up on two curving legs. "This is what it looks like written down."

She blinked and tore her eyes off the paper. "What does it mean?"

Optimus met her gaze and his expression softened. "Love."

Mikaela felt her face flushing.

He chuckled, writing the symbol for his name inside the triangle of hers, turning it into one large glyph. "And this is how a bonded pair writes their names. Usually a bonded name is engraved on the inside rim of the Spark chamber by someone specially trained. It's very painful and ceremonial, but..." There was veiled bitterness hiding behind his words. "...it is meant to represent all the pain two lovers  _won't_  have to suffer."

Mikaela leaned up and brushed her lips over the mark on his cheek. She again noticed the many engravings on his audios and ear finials--but feared focusing too long would make her hallucinate again.  _Wow, I must be tired_...

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be." Optimus patted her cheek with the pencil and slipped it back into her pocket. "Fate has yielded its reward and I am holding it right now. You don't need to apologize for that." Then he said something that would stick to her mind forever. "I believe in Fate. I believe it has a hand in shaping our lives. With that in mind, I've begun to wonder if what we have now is the love we were destined to find. I came to Earth in pursuit of Megatron and you were there because you followed Sam. So that leaves me wondering if the greatest loves of our lives are the least obvious."

The least obvious. Mikaela gazed intently into his shimmering optics and nodded. "Romance was pretty far from my mind when I watched a truck mutate into you."

His eyes smiled, though his mouth did not. "I was intent on what I had to do. It...it was a suicide mission, Mikaela. I honestly had no plans beyond destroying the Cube. Sometimes I think Fate had a hand in  _that_  as well. Had it been me, would it have become what I saw when the computer virus temporarily extinguished my Spark? What if Megatron's evil was built up to be a gateway for the Cube to break? Didn't the same thing happen when a biblical figure died for the sins of the people and returned to life?"

"Oh, Jesus' life is a complicated story. But yeah, basically, minus the turning evil part--He defeated death itself. There wouldn't be a Heaven otherwise."

"Then I wonder if Megatron's fate was to do the same."

Mikaela didn't answer because she didn't know what to say to something that deep. "What do you think?"

He thought for a few moments. "I believe this whole situation has a higher purpose I can't yet comprehend."

"There you go." She bumped his nose with hers and the sadness in his eyes melted. "That's faith, Optimus."

"It's a nice feeling."

"Good." Mikaela braced herself on his shoulders and stood up. "Argh. I need to get in the bathroom and get out of these underwear. They're riding up my butt."

Optimus laughed, "Wedgies sound incredibly unpleasant."

"Only for those who have a butt."

"Hey!" He pretended to look offended. "It isn't the size that matters, it's how one uses it."

The statement had so many disgusting meanings that Mikaela snickered all the way to the bathroom.

.o

It took three months to find a job--just long enough for her to stop puking at the mention of certain foods. A lot of places didn't want her when they found out she'd require maternity leave, so her choices were extremely limited. From the endless applications she filled out, it was the gas station right on the edge of town that decided to hire her. It sat next to a major railway, so the howl of freight trains was common throughout the night.

She was hired as a cashier, her hours stretching from seven in the evening until one in the morning when the liquor store closed down for the night. The pay and insurance sucked--it was such a dumpy place that the security cameras were fake and connected to nothing--but she could afford prenatal vitamins and that was all she cared about. Another benefit of the job was using the cards Sector 7 gave to the Autobots. Every few weeks, one of the other Autobots would pop in for a refuel. Mikaela encouraged them to try their human-sized bot holograms, but they weren't as eager to use them as Optimus was.

Speaking of Optimus...he made sure she was never bored. Business tended to die completely after nine o'clock, so he'd materialize his hologram behind the counter with her. Sometimes they watched old sitcoms on the tiny TV the owner of the place stashed under the counter. Other times, they just talked--usually while Optimus perused the contents of the store. That in itself amused Mikaela to no end. A robot walking the short aisles, browsing everything from food to candy to cheap toys. Somehow, he memorized the prices on everything and kept excellent track of the money in the till. If nobody came around at the end of the night, she'd let him count the cash. Now that was a sight in itself: Optimus went through paper money as fast, if not faster, than an ATM machine, and rolled coins with the efficiency of assembly line machinery.

"You're holding the ultimate power in your hands, you know," Mikaela told him one night.

Optimus ruffled the bills he was counting. "How so?"

"Money can get you anything if you have enough. It can make people talk...or shut them up."

"It's almost more trouble than it's worth." Optimus glanced at the neat stack of tens he just set down in the till. "How strange though..." He shifted when Mikaela picked up a quarter, and went on, "...that some think paper and metal will grant them happiness."

Mikaela set the coin flat on her thumbnail, flicked it up and caught it. Over and over, just like her dad used to do. "Greed. It sucks. Money is power and power corrupts...but you'd know that more than anybody." She tossed the coin again.

Optimus snatched the quarter mid-flight, balanced it on his thumb and flipped it up into the air, catching it again in his fist with a loud ping. He did it faster than Mikaela could, and Mikaela swallowed the sudden urge to call him Johnny Five. "Power corrupts when greed enters the picture, and unfortunately even the kindest person succumbs to it on occasion." Then he gave the coin a last flip and caught it perfectly in the paper roll. He smiled when he held it out to her. "There are things in life that have no price, yet are too expensive to lose. Love...a person's soul...both intangible and precious."

Mikaela accepted the roll of quarters that felt like a heavy burden on her palm. Money was power, and power dragged people down. She thought briefly of Megatron going insane with the power from the Cube. A shiver ran down her spine. She quickly discarded the roll of quarters in the till and locked the cash register.

"Think we can swing by MacDonald's on the way back to the warehouse? I could use a Big Mac."

Optimus smiled at her. "Who is asking? You, or the baby?"

"Both of us. Now c'mon, I'm seriously hungry."

The very next night, Mikaela found a reason to hate her job.

"These don't look very nutritious," Optimus inclined his head towards the disgusting-looking corndogs lying under a glass warming lamp.

"You need to have a steel stomach to eat those. They kill people."

His eyes widened. "Why would you sell poison?"

Mikaela laughed, "I'm kidding! It's just the food probably isn't that good. They can sit around for a week before we toss them. I wouldn't eat one fresh anyway. God knows whose hands were on them before they got here."

He made a face. "That doesn't sound very sanitary."

"I'm sure it'd give Ratchet the heebie-jeebies."

"He does have a small fear of having organic material contaminate his internals. A mech can become infested with mold if he doesn't maintain himself regularly, especially in places with high humidity." Optimus rapped on the cracked gray countertop, "It's not a fatal condition. Just...annoying."

"Sounds like you've been there."

"I have. Oops, company. Disappearing now."

Mikaela faced the door while the air beside her became suddenly empty without Optimus' presence. Two Latino men walked in without acknowledging her and made a beeline for the beer in the back. Both wore black wife beaters and the tallest of the two had something in Spanish tattooed across his left shoulder.

"Hey, Miguel, check out that piece of ass behind the counter," whispered the shorter one.

Mikaela pretended not to hear. She was used to this.

"Prob'ly too young. Anyway...Omar, did you see that big rig sittin' outside? How much you think a custom job like that's worth eh?"

"Way more than you've got."

" _Chinga te!_ "

They laughed and finally made their way towards the counter with a six pack of Corona beer. Omar, the one with a tattoo, was older than Mikaela first realized. He had a mustache and stubble around his chin, and the smell of ground beef clung around his hands. Probably just got off work in the food business somewhere.

"Hey, sweet thing. Got any Marlboro's?"

"Sure," Mikaela reached under the counter and laid the cigarettes next to the beer. "Will that be all?"

"Yup."

She rang up their purchases. Miguel paid her while Omar wandered to the door to peer at Optimus, who was parked off to the side of the liquor store, but still within sight of the road. He really couldn't fit anywhere else without blocking access to the gas pumps.

"Know anything about that truck out there?"

"It's my boyfriend's," Mikaela said casually. "He lets me drive once in awhile."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." She loved how this messed with their heads.

Omar turned quickly from the door and grabbed the cigarettes out of the bag. "Right. Well, have a good night, lady."

"Night," Miguel added.

Mikaela waved to them as they stepped out the door. She could hear them chattering in Spanish while they walked away.

The dirty wall clock above the door clicked over to one o'clock. Finally...Mikaela was sleepy and wanted to go to bed. She made the rounds just like her manager, Joe, showed her--shutting off lights, locking things up and putting her profits in a safe in the back. Lastly, she locked the front doors, jiggling them to make sure they were secure. It was as routine as brushing her teeth or tying her shoes.

Someone tapped her shoulder.

"'Scuse me," Omar said, "I--think I forgot something."

Mikaela barely managed to breathe in the life he'd scared out of her. "What was it? I'll go in and get it."

"Aw, that's fine. It's right here."

She heard the click of a revolver cocking and her blood froze. Her mouth ran dry while her heart raced a million miles an hour. By instinct, she blurted out, "Oh, God...don't shoot. I'm pregnant!"


	4. Chapter 4

"There won't be any shooting if you come nice and quiet,  _muchacha_ ," Miguel came around to her left side. He took her arm as though he was taking her out on a date. If there were no weapons involved, she would've easily kneed his crotch and ran for it. But there was too much risk to her baby.

Mikaela felt freezing cold metal press against her throat. Omar held it there while Miguel turned her towards a dirty white Toyota sitting in the exit driveway. "C'mon, let's walk to the truck. Nice and slow now."

"Okay, okay," she took a step and her stomach fluttered.

A passing freight train roared by. In its flashing lights she saw the shadow of a Peterbilt rapidly changing shape. The cacophony drowned out the sounds made by the transformation and vibrations from the tracks masked Optimus' footsteps completely.

The Amtrak faded into the distance. Dead silence hung in the balmy black air.

"You  _really_  don't want to do that," Optimus growled. If voices were temperatures, his tone went beyond absolute zero.

Omar glanced over his shoulder. He gawked, the gun in his hand still pointed at Mikaela's throat. Miguel followed his friend's gaze and his jaw nearly touched his collarbones.

"What the fuck is that?" Omar shrieked.

Optimus knelt to regard the men more on their level. His face was colder than Mikaela had ever seen...the icy look he'd given to Simmons absolutely  _paled_  in comparison. She could hear the plating on his cheeks starting to vibrate as he ground lip plates against each other.

"I'm the driver of the truck," he said.

Miguel promptly took his hands off Mikaela. He stepped slowly to the side, his dark eyes like saucers set deep in his tanned face. "Hey...heh, heh...she's your woman. Sorry, man. I--we didn't kn--"

"Shut up, Miguel!" Omar hissed. He bared his teeth when Optimus' narrowed optics focused on him. "L-look, um...big robot guy...we weren't gonna hurt h--"

"No, I suppose you were just taking her for a drive. Then I imagine you planned to slip a little something into a beer and force her to consume it, and then have your fun once she was too incoherent to fight back or identify you. I can see why you'd choose this place--a woman working alone in the middle of the night. No one would notice, right?" Optimus lowered further, pushing his face towards the two men, " _Right?_ "

"Okay! Okay! Yes!" Omar squeaked out. "We didn't know she was taken or--"

"Be quiet!" Optimus snapped. "And please drop the gun. It can't hurt me."

"I--"

" _Drop_  it."

Mikaela felt the gun move off her neck and heard it clang on the asphalt somewhere on her left.

"Now, don't move." Optimus proceeded to grasp the men by their heads, gently lifted their obediently limp forms off the ground and plopped them down atop the flat liquor store roof without so much as pulling a single hair off their scalps.

"Hey!" Omar yelled, waving his arms, "You aren't gonna leave us up here, are you?"

"Actually, yes." He planted his fists on his hips and Mikaela saw him sneer. "The police will be more than happy to assist you. I'm sure they'll be very interested in your story."

" _Pendejo_." Miguel muttered.

" _Cállate la boca!_ " Optimus barked at them. Then, in a softer, more polite tone, he added, " _Por favor_."

Omar and Miguel blanched. They did not make another sound. Optimus glared holes in their heads for another minute before turning towards Mikaela. The anguish on his face melted to the familiar gentleness of the Optimus she knew.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so." Mikaela tried to stop shaking. What could have happened ran through her mind in endless loops that sent chills down her spine. For once the nausea she felt was fear and not hormones. "I almost got shot. I-I almost got  _shot!_ "

"Shh..." Optimus' thumb stroked her back. His voice was soothing. "They can't hurt you now."

But she wouldn't feel safe in the open. Not with those two men still able to see her. "G-get me out of here...please..."

"Sure."

He folded himself back into a Peterbilt and swung his passenger door open. She climbed into the safety of his cab. The slam of his door came simultaneously with his engine starting up. They pulled out onto the road. Behind them, the sound of sirens split the otherwise peaceful night air.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Optimus' hologram materialized in the driver's seat. He looked as unsettled as she felt. "Do you still want to work there?"

"What?"

"It's dangerous, Mikaela." Optimus grasped the top of the steering wheel in his left hand and pushed his lower jaw slightly forward. He tapped his bottom lip plate against the top one. If he had teeth, he would probably be grinding them right now. Despite his anger, he remained within the legal speed limit.

"What did you expect? I was working the graveyard shift."

"Yes, and I guessed their motives correctly. What if I hadn't been there tonight?"

"I need the money!" Mikaela faced him. "It took months to find this job! I can't just--"

"Is it worth people threatening your  _life_?"

He hadn't snapped, yet the words sent new ice water pulsing down her spine. She watched him adjust the gearshift as they went over a hill.

"Optimus..."

"I'll help you find something better. In good conscience I just can't stand by and let you risk your life night after night for six dollars an hour."

Mikaela's frozen terror morphed to burning anger melting her innards. She threw her hands up and fell back in her seat, "Great! Two assholes come in and I have to quit my job? What the hell is that, Optimus?"

Optimus pulled over on the road and faced her. Fear was written all over his features--wide eyes, relaxed mouth and a subtle tremor racing through his chassis. That expression did not belong anywhere on Optimus Prime.

"I just want you safe," he said simply. "The time we have is already so short. Forgive me for sounding selfish, but I want you to remain alive as long as possible."

His quiet words were waves of inevitability crossing the distance between them. He was trying to make every moment he had with her  _matter_. Compared to him, her life span matched a hamster or rat and she was just as small and fragile.

The reality of their differences shone down like the harsh, imperfection-revealing fluorescent lights in a restaurant restroom.

Mikaela reached out and cupped Optimus' cheek to wipe away an imagined smudge. "I'm keeping this job until I find work during the day. Then I'll quit. Deal?"

The plating under her palm shifted. He simulated a sigh. "I wish you wouldn't."

"I need the money, Optimus. Remember that story I told you about the pizza crusts and the garden hose? I'm back there again. Kids are expensive. Clothes, diapers, toys, pediatricians...the insurance alone costs money. I need a job to get insurance coverage now or I'll never get ahead. I'm pregnant and I only have a high school diploma, and the economy is shit here. That makes finding work a million times harder. I take what I can get."

"Your economy is flawed."

"I know. And it isn't changing until Congress stops sitting on its butt." Mikaela buckled her seat belt. "That's why I've gotta keep this job until I find another one."

Optimus didn't look at all pleased. But, with very obvious reluctance, he relented.

"Very well. But I'm going to scan every person who walks through that door, and if I see a weapon without any kind of law enforcement badge, I will materialize my hologram and ask them to leave. Hopefully--"

He stopped mid-sentence, blinked and stared intently at her stomach.

"Optimus?" Mikaela glanced down where his seat belt was resting right below her navel. Her stomach was beginning to grow a little--though at the moment it looked more like a pot belly than a pregnancy.

"That...did not feel like peristalsis."

"What?"

"I just felt a flutter in your lower abdomen."

Sitting back, Mikaela held her breath and concentrated. She felt a tiny tapping, like bubbles popping under her belly button.

"Oh..." She grabbed Optimus' hand and laid his palm just below her navel. Any anguish she felt before melted in the first tactile sign that she carried life inside her body. "That's the baby."

Optimus' expression softened. He shifted his fingers lower and a look of wonder crossed his face. Mikaela had no doubt his incredible sense of touch felt the kicks better than she could. It seemed to hit him that yes, there really was a baby growing inside her.

Their gazes locked and time skipped a few beats. Mikaela saw nothing but love in his glistening blue optics. Love for her and love for the tiny human being he hadn't even met yet.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

"Yeah..."

"Do you think she's aware of us?"

Mikaela laid her soft human hands over the large metal one so gently cupping her faint baby bump. "Maybe."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I see." Leaning over, Optimus spoke straight down at her abdomen, "Hello, little one. This is your--" he glanced up, smiled and went on, "--dad."

Mikaela thought her heart would burst from her chest and do a happy dance on the dashboard. A similar flutter tickled the inside of her lower abdomen.

"Wow, what a kick! Or was that a punch?" Optimus' face once again filled with wonder. He chuckled and Mikaela realized his thumb was gently petting her stomach. "I'm looking forward to your arrival, little one."

Mikaela smiled at the sweet gesture. She pulled his head up and touched her lips to his mouth. "I was a jerk earlier. I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to apologize for," Optimus said against her lips. His eyes twinkled and squinted in a smile. "Water under the dam."

She giggled. "Bridge."

He winked. "Whatever."

"You're such a dork."

"Culturally challenged might be the politically correct term."

"Fine. You're a culturally challenged dork."

"That's bet--hey!"

Optimus' cab rang with simultaneous laughter. Their amusement continued as he pulled back onto the road. The angry words they'd exchanged hung forgotten by the roadside. Optimus spent the entire drive to the warehouse with one hand resting on Mikaela's belly.

.o

"Viviane."

"Ooh, pretty...but kinda old, don't you think?"

"Nimue?"

"Nobody'd know how to pronounce it."

"How about...Gwenhwyfar."

Mikaela burst into giggles. "You're pulling names from  _The Mists of Avalon_!"

Optimus shot an amused look and his huge face sparkled in the orange sunset. Mikaela sat on his shoulder, one arm draped around his exhaust pipe and her other hand resting on the keyboard of her laptop. They were enjoying the view from the hill where they first danced while simultaneously perusing the web for that perfect baby name.

"Well, since you figured me out, I might as well toss out one more. Morgaine."

Mikaela whacked the side of his head with her palm and smiled. Then she sighed, letting her shoulders sag. Naming a baby wasn't like naming a pet. An animal could live with a goofy name. But a person? A person who would have it written on papers, on name tags and, if they became famous, in lights?

"Argh..." Mikaela lightly bumped her head against Optimus' audio cover. It whirred and spun. She made a face. "Is this as much a pain in the butt for you guys?"

"Not really."

"Which reminds me...how come you and Megatron have these really unique name while the other guys go by everyday words?"

He chuckled softly, a gentle sound. "Megatron and I have names that can be pronounced phonetically in your language as well as ours. The others are using close approximations."

"Ohhh, okay. Well, your name is actually Latin on this planet. I guess it's a good thing you didn't go translating  _that_  even more."

"True. I doubt introducing myself as Best First would allow anyone to take me seriously."

Of course he'd know Latin, too. She sighed and followed his gaze to the darkening sunset. The orange had faded to deep red with touches of melon-pink hugging the horizon.

"How do you deal with names? Are they given or do you just know when you wake up?"

"Names are rather loose where I come from." Optimus shifted his weight so smoothly that Mikaela wasn't at all disturbed by the slight swaying motion. His eyelids clicked and his audio covers spun counterclockwise. They always did that when his mind was wandering. "Megatron's name is actually two words combined into one. _Mega_  is 'brilliant' and  _tron_  means 'optics.'" He glanced at her and smiled, his expression soft, "Now you know why I nicknamed him Bright Eyes."

"That's kinda cute."

Optimus made an amused sound. "It's what I blurted out when I first saw him. The name stuck."

Mikaela closed her laptop and slipped it into its carrying case, which she'd secured to the same air filter she was holding onto. "What about yours?"

"Mine means 'beloved' on Cybertron. Megatron...would only refer to me with that word." His joints hissed in a simulated sigh. The pain of remembering softened his voice when he said, "When the war for the Cube began, he started referring to me as Prime. I was no longer his beloved."

Mikaela felt guilt lay a hand on her brow. Why did she always accidentally dig into Optimus' raw wounds? She scooted over to sit so her legs dangled between his chest plates and leaned apologetically against the side of his face. Warm air wafted through the spaces in his cool facial plating.

"She kicked," he said.

"Feels like popcorn."

His cheek shifted into a smile. "It feels beautiful."

"Yeah." Mikaela blinked. "You've used that word a few times when you talk about her."

"Would you prefer another term?"

"Huh? No! No, I like it." She ran a hand through her loose hair and leaned back to gaze into the large optic less than a foot from her face.

"Perhaps it is her way of telling us her name. Beautiful."

Cute idea, but Mikaela still arched a brow, "That's not something you want to name a kid, Optimus. No offense."

"That is how names are given on my world. A feature, personality...whatever word comes naturally when referring to that person becomes their name."

"It's not so easy here. People...they're bullies. Other kids might make fun of her name." Mikaela sighed, "My mom used to call me Mickey when I was little. Then I started school and the other kids made fun of it. They'd yell 'Mickey Mouse!' So I told everyone to call me Mikaela. No nicknames to make fun of there." She swung her feet, her heels plunking gently on his armor, "I won't even go into how cruel and abusive other kids can be in high school. Anyway, now do you see why I'm so picky about naming her?"

He was frowning, his expression both sympathetic and perhaps a little upset. Maybe having every one of his name suggestions tossed out left him frustrated. Mikaela gave him an A for effort, though, as some of the names he suggested were very pretty.

She said, "I want her to have a name that means something to both of us."

"The available choices are too limiting. Beautiful is the term I associate with her."

Mikaela blinked and leaned forward, "Is there a word for 'beautiful' in your language?"

He brightened. "Yes, yes, there is. I'll show you."

Kneeling, Optimus used his fingers to draw a symbol in the dirt. It was a squiggle resembling a backwards number three--except it had two horizontal lines slashed through its center and a small circle above and below it. The circles were drawn exactly the way he dotted his letter i's.

It was a gorgeous marking. Mikaela tilted her head, her eyes following the two lines into the grass.

"Beautiful, as written in my language."

"How do you pronounce it?"

Optimus straightened and his gentle smile melted her heart, "Elita."

"Elita." Mikaela tested the sound of it on her tongue. It was feminine and unique.

The name search was done. In her heart, she just knew.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah. Now the whole family has Cybertronian names." Mikaela grinned and slapped herself on the knee, "Optimus, you're a genius!"

Optimus laughed and looked at her stomach. "Did you hear that? You have a name, Elita. Our little Elita."

Then he tipped his head slightly and brushed his mouth against Mikaela's brow. His ability to perform such small, delicate movements amazed her.

"How did your interview at K-mart go?"

"Oh," Mikaela surfaced above her giddiness enough to formulate a proper reply, "Um...the guy that interviewed me didn't look at me funny when I mentioned I was pregnant. He was really nice." She chewed on her thumbnail, "He even asked when I'm due. Nobody else ever did that."

Optimus nodded slightly, so as not to send her tumbling off her shoulder. "Does he have a name?"

"Donald Winter, but right away he told me to just call him Donny."

"Donald Winter." Optimus repeated. "Interesting."

"I like him. Oh, and did I mention I got the job and I start working in the automotive department on Monday?"

This time Optimus smiled with his whole face. "That's wonderful! What time are you required to arrive?"

"Ten in the morning and I get off at five, but I have breaks in the middle so I'll get to eat lunch and relax." She patted his cheek, "Things are going to work out just fine."


	5. Chapter 5

Getting Ratchet and Ironhide to use their human-sized holograms turned out to be simpler than Mikaela previously thought. All it took was a basketball hoop and a ball they found lying on the road. They nailed the hoop to the side of the warehouse where the parking lot was the widest. Mikaela discovered they'd done this when the noise of them playing woke her up at six o'clock on a Friday morning.

The ball smashed into something metal. Ironhide growled, "Ugh!"

"I told you, I was open!" Ratchet snapped.

Optimus cut in, "I'm waiting."

"Let's get him!" Ironhide's voice passed the sleeper. The backboard rattled. Metallic footsteps and a bouncing ball scrambled across the gravel.

So much for sleep.

Mikaela staggered into Optimus' cab and eased his passenger side door open. There they were--all three of them gathered near the basketball rim. Their court was set up on the side of the warehouse completely hidden from the road, so nobody had even a chance of seeing them.

Optimus had the ball. He crouched low just like a professional player, dribbling with his left hand while Ratchet and Ironhide approached from each side. He was so intent on them that Mikaela jogged over, snatched the ball right out from under him and enjoyed the tinkling swish of the metal net.

"Oh, that's a foul," Ironhide folded his arms. "Outside interference."

Optimus just laughed. He picked the ball up and playfully bounced it off Ironhide's head, causing the weapons specialist to sway on his feet. "It's just a game. Besides," he caught the ball again and spun it on his index finger. One optic clicked shut in a wink, "now we have four players."

Ratchet balked. "Should Mikaela be playing in her condition?"

"I'll be fine," Mikaela rolled her eyes, "Exercise is actually good for me and the baby. So..." She knocked the ball from Optimus hands and started dribbling, her lips curling off her teeth in a grin, "C'mon, Optimus, reset the score and let's show 'em how it's done."

Ratchet rushed over to block Optimus while Ironhide leapt between Mikaela and the basket. All three of them had a huge size advantage over her--but Mikaela was skilled in this game. She shifted so her back faced Ironhide and dribbled slowly, peeking over her shoulder. Optimus edged towards the basket with Ratchet right alongside him.

Mikaela faked a shot and passed to Optimus, who caught the ball over Ratchet's head. He spun around the medic for an easy lay-up. "He shoots, he scores...what a star!"

Ironhide snatched the ball when it fell and dashed down the gravel alley. They were playing half court. Optimus tried to block Ironhide, but he flung the ball across the court to Ratchet. The yellow medic deftly avoided Mikaela. She had almost grabbed the ball from him when he flipped it back to Ironhide--who promptly ducked past Optimus and slammed it into the hoop. His dunk made a bang that echoed off the warehouse wall.

"Yes! Who's the mech?" he snarled, lifting both arms over his head. Ratchet just kind of looked on in embarrassed amusement before shaking his head.

Mikaela laughed and formed a letter T with her hands. "Okay now, time out guys. I need to eat breakfast. I'm starved. I'll join you again when I'm done."

"I'll come with you." Optimus imitated the time-out gesture so he wouldn't get clobbered by the ball. The other two waited for him to clear the 'court' before resuming a one-on-one game. "I think these two can handle each other for a few minutes. What do you feel like eating this morning?"

Optimus had been practicing around the stove a lot lately. He was no Iron Chef--a lot of food ended up burned before he figured it out--but once he did he was so perfectly precise that Mikaela forgave the grease fires she had to put out in the past.

"Um...cheese omelet?"

"Coming right up."

Mikaela watched him grab the necessary ingredients. She went to the bathroom to freshen up and empty her bladder. Upon emerging, she saw him setting the pan on the burner. When did seeing an alien robot cook start to feel normal?

"I apologize if we woke you," he said.

"Oh," she waved a hand dismissively, "No big deal. I slept pretty good. Would've liked to sleep longer...but then I'd end up staggering around at noon. I can't keep doing that when I start working."

Optimus held an egg between his thumb and middle finger. Using his index finger, he tapped it open like one of those plastic Easter eggs and its contents splattered in the pan with a sizzle. "Understandable."

The sudden smell made Mikaela's mouth water. Optimus used his hands instead of forks and spatulas. This used to gross her out until he informed her the metal on his hands had a microbe-resistant finish. Even as a hologram his hands were as clean as the tools in an operating room. All of their hands were treated that way--especially mechs like Ratchet, it helped when it was necessary to perform emergency repairs on a dirty battlefield.

Antibacterial...but not grease resistant. Mikaela attacked his fingers with a paper towel before he spread cooking muck all over the stove controls. Then she sat down to enjoy her hearty breakfast.

"Geez, where are you getting the instructions for all of this?"

"Internet searching." Optimus shot her an amused look. "Preparing food seems so simple. Why do so many people make errors that ruin the meal?"

She answered with her mouth full, "Our brains aren't computers and not every oven works the same way."

"Hm."

The rest of her breakfast was consumed without another word. Silences around Optimus were rarely awkward--especially since the living creature in her uterus often found entertaining ways to tickle her innards. It seriously felt like a fish swishing and tapping against a part of herself she couldn't reach to scratch.

Optimus looked over when Mikaela giggled. She pointed to her stomach. He splayed his hand on her lower abdomen and his eyes flickered in amusement.

"Maybe she likes my cooking," he remarked.

"Maybe she likes eggs--ack!" she gasped as another poke nearly doubled her over in laughter, "She's moving right where I'm ticklish!"

Optimus' laugh was pure delight. "Speaking of babies...I did encounter an interesting website about natural childbirth. Giving Birth Naturally dot com. It seemed to have information fitting your birth preferences."

Mikaela rolled a piece of egg with her fork. It was sweet how he showed so much interest in her and the baby. "Oh?"

"Yes...and I also ran across several videos that show how you and your partner can manage labor together. They're fascinating. I've emailed you the links." He smiled, "It is your body and your daughter, so I leave everything up to you. These are just options I thought you'd like to explore."

Her heart did a little dance behind her ribs. "Thanks, Optimus. I'll check it out in a bit." She swallowed, "This is  _good_  food."

Optimus did something with his optics that looked suspiciously like waggling eyebrows and his tone was just as teasing, "Isn't it customary to kiss the cook?"

Snickering, she wiped the grease off her lips and pecked him on the mouth without thinking anything strange about it. It wasn't until she resumed eating that Sam's words haunted her. He'd said it was sick. How could a relationship with someone who made her feel wanted and perfect be seen as disgusting? A little odd, maybe...but gross?

"I don't know what I'm going to do about Sam," she sighed. "I want to keep him updated on the baby...but I dunno if he's even interested."

"I'm afraid I can't speak for him," Optimus said. He grabbed the back of a cheap office chair, spun it around so its backing faced her and sat down with his long legs draped off either side. Kitchen sets were too expensive, so Mikaela's dining room was a wooden crate surrounded by an office chair that creaked, a plastic patio chair with a crack on the backing, the dented metal folding chair she was currently sitting on and a low, off-balance stool. Like her life, the pieces were imperfect and didn't quite match.

Besides, seeing Optimus spread out backwards on the office chair with the armor above his knees just sort of sticking up in the air made her giggle inwardly. He looked so relaxed and casual.

"I know. I guess I'm just trying my hardest not to think of him as a jerk. The sex was pretty awkward, too." Mikaela finished off the last of the omelet and felt a little sad that such yummy, fluffy eggs and gooey cheese had to run out. "Optimus, I used to use guys."

He cocked his head.

"It used to be a game. Guys are ruled by hormones a lot of the time at this age and it's easy to make them do what you want if you dangle sex in their faces. It's a biology thing. I guess..." She examined the words about to pass her lips and it opened something cold in the middle of her chest, "...I only loved myself when I had guys wagging their tongues at me. I thought I was worth something to  _them_  at least. God, do I sound stupid?"

Optimus leaned forward and folded his hands on the backing of his chair. "You never sound stupid to me."

She sighed, sitting back in her seat.

"Perhaps your behavior is due to a lack of stability in life," he went on. "It sounds to me as if you feared losing control of a relationship, so you threw it away. It's easier to...I believe your term is 'dump'...than to be dumped."

Optimus just hit a target no one else in her life had ever touched on before. She immediately felt guilty and dirty. It wasn't easy to shrug off the whispers of "slut" and "whore" in the school halls. She always feared becoming unattractive and already she'd done so in Sam's eyes. Her body was changing rapidly because of the pregnancy--what if she blew up like a big, swollen balloon full of pimples and stretch marks?

"I'm...I'm always afraid I'll hurt you like I hurt Sam." Mikaela whispered. The back of her throat ached. She blamed it on hormones because it just wasn't like her to cry so easily. "And I'm afraid I'll be an idiot and hurt the baby when she's older. I don't want to screw this up. I don't want her to go through what I did."

Optimus' chair creaked as he reached across the table to clasp her wrist in his cool, gentle hand. Mikaela tilted her palm up and their fingers interlocked in a mix of flesh and metal. He leaned forward until his penetrating blue eyes were level with hers. "Do you remember what I said about perfect love?"

"Mmhmm."

"Excluding the relationship you had with Sam, have you desired other males since our first encounter?"

"N-no..." Her own reply surprised her. "Everything feels different with you. I can't put a finger on it other than it's a rush I don't get anywhere else."

"That feeling is your answer." His face softened in a smile. "You've found what you were searching for."

Reality stung when it should have comforted.

"Sam said it was gross. I told him what we did. I told him everything--and he said it was gross."

Optimus' smile melted into a frown. "So he didn't take it well."

"No. He probably won't want to touch me again, either." Mikaela wiped her free hand through her hair. "I like him. He's a nice guy, but I just can't deal with him if he's going to run off on me and the baby. I'm worried he'll suddenly change his mind. Frankly, I don't want to marry him for the baby's sake anymore. I did before, but now I don't think I'll say yes if he tries to ask. I'm...I'm sick of lying to myself. I love  _you_."

She felt his fingers tighten slightly. He brought his other hand up to rest across her knuckles. His optics shimmered like crystals and tilted slowly in a smile that did not quite reach his mouth.

"I love you, too," he replied softly.

Saying it was so hard for her. The three most healing words in the universe...and she struggled to say them. But once she did he responded so easily--almost as if he'd been waiting for her to say it first.

She glanced down at their hands, studying how they were clasped between the lines created by a plank in the crate.

"When Megatron and I separated...I...had flings, as you call them. Never direct intercourse--more like how we behaved the day I performed that most graceful tumble..." Amusement flickered on his face only to fade behind his words, "Sexual relations without love don't feel the same. The emotional connection makes every sensation meaningful." Optimus held her gaze, his expression serious. "A fling is caring only for your own pleasure. Making  _love_  is tending to your partner. It is looking into their eyes and seeing how much they love you as you move together. It is listening to each other and learning exactly what sends you and your partner to heights of rapture. Casual relations? There is no connection or communication. You might as well have a wall between you and the other person. I have done both in my life and I can speak from experience--casual interfacing does nothing for me. I need passion. I need to  _care_."

Mikaela heard her own story in every word he spoke. He just nailed exactly what she'd been missing most of her life. Out of all the people she'd had relations with, he was the most passionate. If she was asked to name whoever satisfied her the most out of all the boys she'd slept with, he'd win by light years.

"What I've learned is that no love is ever satisfying until you learn to love yourself," he went on.

"How do I do that?"

Optimus tilted his head and sagely wisdom shone in his calm face. He said, "See all your flaws, all your triumphs, achievements you are proud of and errors you're ashamed of, and learn how to walk directly down the center of both while looking straight ahead. Don't focus on one or the other, merely walk down the middle while acknowledging and accepting both sides."

"Sounds easy if you have a long life to realize this." Mikaela half smiled, taking his words and filing them away to think about more deeply at a later time. "Some people never do learn."

His optics blinked slowly and he nodded his head. The air grew silent between them. A comfortable pause without awkwardness.

Then Mikaela decided she'd ask something she never asked anyone. "What is it about me that turns you on? Do I do something that flips a switch or...what? I'm curious."

He chuckled, a gentle, pleasant sound that was never fake. "Honestly?"

"Yup. Lay it on me."

Optimus turned his head a moment, squinted and she saw his mouth still tilted up in a robotic grin. Then he faced her and said, "You have this...thing...you do with your eyes. Where I come from, a lot of our eroticism is based around the optics. No matter how much a mech changes his appearance outwardly, his optics remain exactly the same. And you have this attractive manner in which you veil your eyes with your eyelashes. I don't know if you're aware when you're doing it. Your eyelashes are so dark and your irises are such a brilliant blue...the contrast makes your eyes become extremely intense. My visual receptors often interpret them as glowing like a pair of optics. It's beautiful and awes me whenever I see you do it."

Ah, the classic bedroom eyes. She got her eyelashes from her dad and he used to look at her mom that way. It must've gotten stuck somewhere in her unconscious mind and only surfaced when she was old enough to understand the meaning of that look.

"So..." Mikaela turned her head slightly, blinked slowly and peeked through her eyelashes at him, "this look?"

"Mm, yes, that's it," he squeezed her hand and she felt his metal fingers briefly grow warmer. "How do I excite you?"

Her cheeks flushed. They were  _talking_  about their relationship. Talk as she knew it used to be about nothing--that noisy interlude between bouts of making out and beyond. With Optimus it was different. If she let herself go, they'd talk for hours. Sometimes they bantered about silly subjects and sometimes they discussed serious matters. One could rant without interruption. One was always listening. They could both be silent and fill it with each others' presence instead of meaningless chatter.

The difference astounded Mikaela. Why did she keep walking away from this? Why did she keep leaving someone who let her be herself?

Optimus' question still hung in the air. She blushed again and squeaked out, "Your voice. Especially when you drop down really deep...it drives me crazy when you do that. Around here, voices like yours are...oh...how would you say it? Mm. Voices like yours are the height of masculinity. You talk and people listen."

"Oh..." He lowered his voice to its deepest register, "Is this the tone you speak of?"

Mikaela giggled at the playful look in his eyes. "Yup. God help me...you have the kind of voice that would drive any woman on this planet up the wall. All you have to do is say sexy things and...um...yeah..."

"Sexy things?"

"Um--" she chewed her bottom lip, "Depends on the person. Some like dirty talk, you know, stuff like 'I'll fuck you senseless'...though I was never into that."

Optimus' eyes flickered, "I never enjoyed that kind of talk either, though I do know Ratchet  _loves_  it when Ironhide does."

"Whatever floats their boat."

"Indeed."

"What's the most romantic movie line you've ever heard since you landed here?" Mikaela found herself rubbing his fingertips. It was strange to see that although his hands had scratches on them, they weren't scarred beyond recognition. They felt just as smooth as any other stainless steel surface she'd touched in her lifetime...the exception being  _this_  stainless steel could feel her. "I'm sure whatever it is will be exactly the kind of stuff I like to hear."

He closed his eyes, smiling, probably running through a long list. Then, all at once, he leaned over the table until their faces were inches apart, looked deeply into her eyes and quoted  _Jerry Maguire_  against her lips: "You complete me."

Mikaela's innards melted into mush. She leaned her forehead against his. At such close proximity his optics were a glowing blue blur.

"Nice retinas," he said.

"Huh?"

He laughed and moved back to sit in his seat.

Mikaela's brain caught up and she realized just how far into her eyes he'd been able to see. The joke finally hit her and she laughed with him. "Your turn again."

"All right." Optimus stood up to flip his chair the right way around. He sat back down, brought his left ankle across his right knee and picked up the wadded paper towels Mikaela used to wipe grease off his hands earlier. She watched in amazement as he started casually juggling them. He was good at it! "Your personality is attractive to me. Our pasts shape us. How we talk, how we react to the world, the reasons for which we laugh and cry. It seems we were molded by similar twists of fate." He reversed the direction in which he juggled the paper towel wads. "You understand hardship. You have made sacrifices those around you don't fully appreciate. It is a background I completely understand because I've been there, done that and there wasn't even a T-shirt my size."

Mikaela groaned at the last line. She watched him catch the wadded paper towels and chuck them over her head. All three landed in the trash can behind her.

He reached across the table, curled a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. "You are forged like a diamond, Mikaela. Diamonds require specific conditions--high temperatures, extreme pressure and incredible depths. Yet, despite that harsh environment, once found..." He tipped his head slightly, "...they sparkle."

"My dad used to have a similar analogy." It was easier to talk than sit there blushing over what he was saying to her. "Samurai swords. They're made by a smith who literally folds and layers the blade several times rather than banging one piece until it looks like a pointy thing. It's heated, cooled, shaped and heated again. Everything that smith does has an affect on how the blade will look when it's finished. But in the end, the result is something worth..." she was falling into his eyes, and had to take a breath to control the butterflies in her stomach, "...admiring."

His eyes softened and he gently reclaimed her hand in both of his. She felt his thumb tracing out the glyphs representing their names on her palm. His alien, yet familiar touch burned every nerve ending in her skin. Their conversation left her mentally, physically and emotionally on fire, and his thumb, touching her so simply, spread the flames. She  _wanted_  him in so many ways that she couldn't name them all. He focused onto her and his optics, blue like pilot lights, pinned her in a hot, predatory stare. She watched that animal he kept controlled emerging from its cage and pacing about behind his gaze. It was only a matter of time before it devoured her, and it was only a matter of time before she  _let_  it happen.

"I can feel the blood roaring in your veins." Optimus rumbled. "Your heart is pounding."

"I-I know..."

Again, it was silent. Mikaela could hear every breath she sucked in through her nose. Their eyes were locked. They weren't moving, yet to her she felt as if they were already making love on the floor, and her body reacted so suddenly that she shivered when he moved his thumb along the crease where her wrist joined her palm.

Everything in the universe funneled down to that single point of contact. Mikaela braced herself for the inevitable explosion.

"Mikaela," he whispered in the deep tone that stirred her senses with visions of storms and power and dark, misty places.

"Yes?" she peered at him through her eyelashes and coyly brushed her hair back. "Need something?"

His hands  _trembled_  around hers...

The table went from useful furniture to an annoying obstacle, because all of a sudden it was swept aside and everything on top spilled onto the floor. Mikaela only had time to gasp before Optimus literally pounced on her. The chair in which she sat tipped backwards, flinging her down on a pile of soft, dusty tarps. She wore just a thin, light pink tank top and filmy white pajama pants, both worn too thin to do anything besides cover her unmentionables. Through them she felt every angle, vibration and coil of his machine body.

Optimus leaned his face down to her neck and brushed his metal lips over her throbbing pulse.

"Just this once, I wish I had a sense of taste..." He trailed off and nuzzled her neck. "Just...this...once."

And then he nipped her with the edges of his mouth. She felt the little pinches move from her earlobe to her shoulder and it sent tingles down her arms. His hands were--oh, God--they were in her hair, heedless of the tangles she hadn't brushed out yet. She felt them slide down over her breasts, hook under her shirt and begin lifting slowly upwards. It occurred to Mikaela, dimly, that he meant to remove this obstacle and she'd better cooperate before he ripped the fabric. Sitting up an inch, she let him pull her tank top over her head.

Optimus had never seen her topless before. Mikaela felt very self conscious of the obvious pregnancy bulge turning her toned, flat navel into a small hill. He just smiled at it. His eyes were a caress exploring her. He didn't gawk...he admired. She saw his smile grow. He reached for the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She grasped his wrists and met his gaze.

"This might get messy."

He raised a brow. "Good thing Bounty exists then, isn't it?"

"Mm." Mikaela let him take her bottoms off. She wasn't wearing any underwear, and the effect he'd had on her was painfully obvious.

"That  _is_  normal, correct?"

"Oh, yeah."

A cool breeze came in from the warehouse doors and Mikaela suddenly realized she was completely nude in Optimus' presence.

Once more, his optics caressed her, lingering momentarily on the dark curls between her legs. She didn't shave herself, but she did keep the hair clipped short. He could see everything.

"I will never understand why advertisers want to take what is already beautiful and change it."

Mikaela blushed again. Her body wasn't perfect, but for him it didn't have to be. How was it that he said such simple things that made her feel better about herself?

Optimus' face retreated from her throat. His hand reached out.

Mikaela felt him touch her  _there_ , and reality tunneled around that glistening piece of steel. His fingers did things that made her body clench in need. He paused to examine the fluids clinging to his fingertip in shiny strings, smiled and looked over.

"You  _are_  very wet creatures."

Mikaela laughed, shoving the fallen chair aside. "Optimus?"

"Yes, Mikaela?"

"Get down here."

He was on top of her in a heartbeat. Joints hissed and air from his intake system blew a hot breath across her bare body. She felt him guide her hands under his chest plates. "Feel the levers?"

The levers he spoke of were smooth and warm--probably locking mechanisms for his doors in truck mode.

"Yeah..."

"Pull them."

When she did, he caught his chest plates and set them aside. She'd taken her clothes off for him. He returned the favor.

Bare engine components and his Spark glistened before her in shimmers of silver and blue white. Most of his major functional internals were behind the second, silvery panels residing on either side of his Spark chamber. But minor parts--piping, bolts, wires and his intake vents--glittered in plain sight. They were surprisingly clean, but naturally they would be without the usual emissions given off by everyday diesel engines. Her eyes moved over the intricacies of his shoulder joints and she marveled at his ability to turn from  _that_  into an ordinary truck.

Optimus looked strangely small and out of proportion without his chest pieces, but Mikaela knew it was because she'd never seen him take them off before. According to Ratchet, all of his plating could come off, leaving just his metal framework. Her eyes went to a network of fiber optic cables sprouting from his throat. They were so fine she only saw them because the light hit him just so. The coloring struck her as familiar.

_Ah. Neural lines. They act like nerves_.

She laid her hands flat on his internal plating where the clear wires were spread out like a web. Optimus' eyes absolutely fluttered--then he shivered as if her touch created sensation in his whole body. He moaned and the vibrations of his voice tickled her palms. She raked her nails across his chest, smiling at how his moan became a sharp, hoarse cry. Wanting to see that again, she repeated the action.

"Keep that up..." Optimus seized her hands. His fingers trembled. "...and I won't be in any condition to make love to you properly."

_Make love_ , he'd said.  _Make love...not have sex, not fuck, not roll around...he said make love_.

That meant no fumbling through clothes or going after each other like rabid animals. There were no secrets, regrets or barriers. Their bodies and emotions were completely out in the open. This moment was forever.

Mikaela slipped her arms around Optimus' neck. His pupils dilated and darkened, making his eyes glimmer like azure rings. She knew they only saw  _her_ , and for some reason that made a small space in the back of her throat ache like a healing wound.

His radio came on. She mumbled at him to turn it up and he did. It was Michael Crawford and Barbara Dickson singing a sensual duet. The music was a slow fire rolling over and through her in colorful waves.

_"...come bring me your softness._   
_Comfort me through all this madness._   
_Woman, don't you know, with you I'm born again..."_

Optimus leaned towards her ear and rumbled over the music, "I  _love_  you."

The words alone made Mikaela moan against his audio sensor. She gasped, "Love you too."

_"...come give me your sweetness._   
_Now there's you, there is no weakness._   
_Lying safe within your arms, I'm born again..."_

His hands, those wonderful, cool, stainless steel hands, were all over her. Breasts, stomach, thighs, shoulders...he left no part of her untouched. Cold fire trailed his fingertips and, upon meeting his eyes, she saw how touching her skin excited him.

Mikaela paused to laugh at herself mentally. Why was she so afraid to touch him back? Here he was, several thousand times stronger than her, and she harbored fears that she'd somehow break something. Optimus appeared to sense this--he chuckled and rubbed his lips against her ear.

"You won't hurt me," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe, and she realized she  _really_  liked having his voice right  _there_.

Mikaela flung caution to the wind and slipped her fingers between the plates on his broad back. His fuel tanks and wheel wells were warm and sensitive against her palms. He had a lot of hinges, wires and joints that flexed beneath her touch. The joints making up his shoulders flowed like familiarity under her palms. She felt the cool smoothness of a hydraulic hose and followed it to the shock-absorber spring of his mechanical bicep. It amazed her how his strength depended on that hose and a few wires--cut just one and his arm would be rendered useless.

Optimus seemed equally fascinated by the bone structure of her pelvis. His fingertips traced her tailbone, her hips and glided towards her side. She giggled at his fingers gently tickling over her ribs. Her giggle became a squeak when his hand lightly squeezed her backside and made its way up her spine. She raked her nails down his chest. Optimus did the same thing to her back. Not too hard...but enough that she knew he was leaving marks all over her shoulder blades. Fantastic pleasure-pain shot across her skin. She tried barely grazing him at all and he mirrored every motion on her back, a silent message telling her exactly how it felt to him. They were feeling, breathing, needing and loving as a single being.

_"...I was half, not whole,_   
_in step with none._   
_Reaching through this world,_   
_in need of one..."_

"Mikaela," Optimus whispered in her ear and--oh--she wanted to melt in the heat of his smoldering gaze. He laid his palm on her tailbone, preparing to line their bodies up.

"Hm?" she let him because she trusted him. For a heartbeat she worried he'd be cold when he pressed against her...but he felt just as warm as her own skin. Feeling his body against her nakedness sent her heart racing. The moment she wrapped around him, his face clenched. She knew the blood roaring through her veins was already driving him crazy.

He started his engines and the vibrations tickled the apex of her thighs. Then he bent over her, bringing his Spark in contact with her heartbeat, and a soft cry escaped his vocal processor.

"Mikaela," Optimus moaned again, interlocking their fingers, "I want you. To have, to hold, for better and for worse, whatever happens--" and she squeezed his hands when his voice dropped to that dark octave she loved, "-- _I will cherish you_."

Tears welled in Mikaela's eyes. Oh,  _God_ , of all the moments he could say what she dreamed of hearing...it didn't need to happen while she was buried in hot, itchy white chiffon and surrounded by people who had better things to do because she knew, coming from  _him_ , in  _this_  moment of almost holy consummation, he  _meant_  it. She pressed her cheek against his and whispered the vows back to him--and told herself deep down that she'd honor them. Her heart was more open than she ever thought imaginable and he flowed into her as a soft, comforting presence. He filled her with aching heat and belonging...the deflagration built higher and higher and she didn't know whether her emotions or his motor were driving her towards bliss.

Optimus teetered on the edge with her when she leaned up and pressed her lips against his parted mouth plates, sealing their vows in a kiss. That was all it took and they tumbled into simultaneous ecstasy. Optimus groaned and grabbed the tarp, his fingers shredding it, and she wailed against his open mouth while the song playing on his radio reached its climax right along with them.

Everything they went through crashed over her mind. Between each heartbeat, she experienced a new surge. Emotions, moments, the past, the present, the future not yet written...Mikaela felt it all as if existing in each vision. Hopes, dreams and fears that weren't her own flickered by in a rush of noise and she knew it was him reaching deep into her. She glimpsed red eyes and a crimson wall--then it flashed to bright lights and the pain of gasping for air--she was remembering two different births.

"Mikaela..." Optimus moaned in her ear and it was music.

Long ago, when she nearly drowned, she heard someone murmuring her name in the light. The same whisper fluttered over her mind like flashes of sun on agitated water and she knew--because the light was love--that she was holding its source.

Then it all slipped away like a dream.

Optimus' orgasm lasted a few seconds longer than hers. She rubbed his neck until his moans tapered away to a satisfied mechanical sigh. The chaos of the moment melted from his expression. His optics went from fierce eclipses to gently glowing stars.

_"...lying safe with you, I'm born...again..."_  the final note of the song began in dissonance. Michael Crawford's voice slipped down a half step, turning the clashing tones into harmony that faded gently away.

They held their position for ages. Mikaela could hear Optimus' eyelids whirring in slow blinks and felt his fingers stroking her hair. She didn't speak because there was nothing to say that hadn't already been said through their bodies. So she turned her head to look at him. He smiled at her with the sun shining on his cheek and all his love for her sparkled in his eyes.

In one smooth motion Optimus shifted to rest on his side, his form a shield between her and the doors leading outside. Mikaela laid her head against his chest and listened to the mechanical noises of his body. His eyelids clicking, the hiss of working intakes, his joints occasionally clanking and the zap-zap noises from his Spark chamber. He seemed quite content to let her lay there as long as she wanted.

"I think Elita is annoyed with our behavior," he mused.

Mikaela had to pause to feel the little pokes. They were still so small that she often mistook it for gas until those little feet jabbed her ticklish side. "Probably felt like an earthquake to her."

Optimus chuckled in her ear. He cradled her hand gently on his palm and she scooted up to rest her head just beneath his chin. It felt so nice to be held. Then Optimus shifted his arm and pain tore at her scalp.

"Ow! Ah! Hey!"

"Sorry! Mikaela, your hair seems to be caught on my thumb."

"I guessed that. Ouch. Uh..." She reached back to find a good sized chunk of her hair wrapped around the space in his thumb joint. Of all the annoying, awkward things to happen right  _now_...

Biting her lip against the pain, she tugged, wiggled and pulled until he finally lifted his hand free of the giant knot now floating around in her dark locks. Scraggly strands clung to his thumb and she spent another five minutes picking those off.

"If you wanted to clone me, you could've asked," she kidded.

"I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often," he said back.

"Luck, I guess." Mikaela brushed the hair strands off the tarp and settled back down against his chest. "Bet you guys have it worse. All that armor plating...something's bound to catch."

Optimus' optics flared brilliant blue. Then his eyelids snapped shut, a smile split his face and he let out the robotic equivalent of a belly laugh. Because he lacked lungs, the laughter didn't come in bursts, rather, it was one long, continuous sound. He laughed for almost a minute before he pulled his voice together enough to say-- "It is an exceedingly awkward situation, but amusing to remember years later." --before his amusement once again took over.

Mikaela grinned and basked in the sound of his laugh. She was so relaxed that she closed her eyes for just a minute...

...and found herself waking up almost three hours later to a large, folded blanket draped over her body. Optimus was lying beside her, his optics dark and closed. He had one arm curled under his head and his other hand rested loosely on her hip. Faint rattling noises identical to a cat's purring told her he'd slipped into recharge not too long ago. He smiled for her even in his sleep.

Optimus looked so peaceful that Mikaela was compelled to unfold the blanket and drape the other half over his slumbering form. Then she mirrored his pose and contentedly watched over him the way he did for her. Her eyes drifted over the symbols engraved in his left cheek and then up to his ear finials. The sunlight caught in them and its brightness made her head ache. She blinked to ease the pain, but it increased instead as the glowing gold outlines of the glyphs fell through her mind like the green numbers in  _The Matrix_.

With her eyes still closed, Mikaela touched each marking on Optimus' left cheek and somehow knew they were the names of the Primes who gave their lives to protect the Matrix of Leadership from the Fallen. A face flickered through her mind to match each symbol. She heard their names ringing in her head as digital chirps and clicks.

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice sounded far away.

"P-Prima...Vector...Nexus..." Mikaela heard herself saying, "Liege--"

"Mikaela!"

The ringing in her head stopped and she snapped her eyes open to find Optimus leaning over her. He'd put his chest plates back on--or rematerialized them onto his hologram--and he was frowning at her.

"Optimus," Mikaela gasped.

"How do you know those names?"

"I-I don't know..." Mikaela hugged herself when she realized she was still naked. "My head started to ring and I just  _knew_  what the marks on your cheek meant." She swallowed, her dry throat stinging. "We both got off pretty hard. M-maybe something from you ended up in me?"

"That would be highly unusual." Optimus grabbed the blanket from earlier and draped it around her just as Ratchet and Ironhide came inside. "Tell me immediately if it happens again. This may be an issue Ratchet needs to examine."

Mikaela nodded and got up, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. She padded into the bathroom and shut the door. Taking a shower sounded good right then. Much better than pondering the voices and images she'd seen in her head.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday morning found Mikaela more nervous than she anticipated. It wasn't the new job. Optimus had asked if he could meet her new boss.

"I've been working on my human hologram. I now have one that looks less likely to be mistaken for your father--" his voice filtered and gurgled when she dipped her head under the spray. If she turned around she'd be able to make out the blurry colors of his metallic body leaning on the wall, "--all I needed to do was reverse my previous hologram's age by ten years."

Mikaela let the hot shower spray rinse the shampoo out of her hair. "What if your hologram flickers? Or we go out of range?"

"The automotive department of K-mart is right next to the auto repair shop. I have a large space through which I can project. And I'd like to report that my hologram now has a range of one hundred yards. Barring another truck my size or larger parking between myself and the store, there won't be an issue."

Did he realize how badly she wanted to strangle him right now? She finished rinsing her hair rather than snapping at him.

"I don't want what happened to Bumblebee happening to you. They...they tortured him in there. The government is trying so hard to keep people quiet about you guys."

Much to her annoyance, he chuckled. "This never seems to be an issue in movies. Though, I must grant that the plotlines do often involve  _invasions_  and that is exactly what the Decepticons tried to do."

Optimus turned out to be a real fan of movies like  _Independence Day_  and  _War of the Worlds_. He could watch those all day. Once, she sat him down to watch  _Men in Black_  and was blessed with two hours of his quiet laughter.

"Exactly!" Mikaela straightened and flipped her hair, letting it slap into her back. "Real life and movies don't work the same. Wish they did. Then I could go into labor with one scream of pain and deliver a six month old baby in the span of fifteen minutes."

"While screaming for drugs."

"Ew." She agreed with his derisive tone. Turning the water off, she reached back to squeeze the excess from her hair. "But do you see my point? People would completely and totally freak. Maybe someday you can reveal yourselves to small groups at a time. But the whole world knowing all at once would be panic. Religious fanatics, economic disasters...you name it."

"And I know my hologram won't fail on me."

Optimus proved he could be just as stubborn as she was. She knew he wasn't budging on this because he wanted to make sure her boss wasn't going to leave her working under the dangerous conditions of her previous job.

"Geez, Optimus, just--" Mikaela yanked the curtain out of the way and froze at the sight of a very human figure standing in the bathroom.

Because even in a human body, Optimus still looked like himself--as much like himself as he could using the form of a human in his late twenties. He was still the same basic height and shape, albeit without the air filters, ear finials and the extra armor that jutted up off his body. The clothes he wore had "trucker" written all over them. A blue flannel shirt with flames licking over the sleeves and hem, old jeans and--Mikaela almost burst out laughing--black leather cowboy boots. His eyes were deep set and the same brilliant blue as his Cybertronian optics. Glasses with rectangular silver-gray frames echoed, at certain angles, what used to be his metallic eyelids. Rumpled mahogany colored hair fell in his eyes and around the nape of his neck, crisp and mysterious against his slightly pale skin. He'd offset his broad face with well-groomed, close-cut mutton chops that framed his jaw. Hints of a mustache emphasized his upper lip and a soul patch marked his chin, shaping his lips into a perpetual pout of deep thought. He had slightly large ears and a big, pointed nose. His mouth twitched in a smile that created lines around his eyes. He had a crooked front tooth.

All together, his features didn't quite match, but they were just so  _endearing_.

It wasn't until a draft came under the door that Mikaela realized she was very wet and about to freeze her butt off.

"Your towel," Optimus handed her the towel she'd left folded on the toilet seat. His voice still sounded exactly the same. Even his hands looked familiar--square-shaped with long fingers that did not taper. Still, Mikaela could not shake off the fact that  _Optimus as a human defied logic_  in her mind.

"Huh? Oh!" Mikaela snatched it and retreated behind the curtain again to collect herself. That figure outside the curtain moved and sounded like Optimus...but in some ways it struck her as so wrong. Then she told herself to get a grip and get used to it. He couldn't very well interact with humans using his normal hologram. Regardless of how friendly he was, people would freak.

"Is this hologram sufficient?" Optimus asked.

She wrapped the towel around her midsection and moved the curtain to face him.

_It's still Optimus_...

"Yeah." She grinned at him, touching his hair and cheek. It wasn't hard to notice he'd borrowed his skin texture from her. "You're pretty cute, Optimus."

Another smile graced his features. "Owen."

"Huh?"

"Around humans...call me Owen. Owen Prime." He crinkled his nose and squinted at her. She noticed he'd perfectly mimicked the act of breathing and felt air from his mouth when he spoke, "No one should think twice about my surname, right?"

"Right." Mikaela touched his chest. He even had something resembling a heartbeat, though it was way too fast. "Um, you might want to slow your pulse down."

"Ah." The throbbing slowed and lessened. "This form still has its disadvantages. I've only imitated the surface appearance of a human. I can't eat or drink, though I can generate holograms of food or drinks and appear to consume them. That might pose problems if people are watching."

"I can tell people you're diabetic and on a restricted diet."

Optimus arched a brow. "That works. And you had better speed up if you want to be at work on time."

"Uh...what time is it?"

"Oh-nine-ten."

Mikaela whipped her towel off and started squeezing the water from her hair. "Ah, shit! Okay, out! I need to get going!"

He held up a finger. "One moment. There's something I wish to try first."

"Eh?"

His face came forward and she felt the soft warmth of his lips pressing against her own. It was tender, gentle and reverent, a silken slide that set her heart racing behind her ribs. He did not use his tongue.

Then he drew back and Mikaela felt her racing heart crash into her stomach. Even his kiss, as beautiful as it was, felt wrong. His mouth was supposed to be smooth, warm metal, not skin.

"Interesting..." whispered Optimus. "I matched the sensory input of my hologram to that of human skin...so I will react properly to external stimuli."

"Yeah?"

"I feel as if there is something between myself and the world. I can't measure the air temperature or feel the vibration of life in your veins." He smiled at her and reverted his hologram to the more familiar, metal form, "As I've said before, human holograms feel so false to me."

"M-me, too," Mikaela choked out, "No offense or anything, it just doesn't feel or look like  _you_. I mean it does, but--"

His fingertip came to rest on her lips, silencing her. "I understand..." And the sad note in his voice told her why. He had to watch Megatron go from a beautiful, silver creature into the jagged, spiked horror she saw. Continuing on, he said, "I will only utilize the human hologram in public. Therefore...oh! Now it's oh-nine-twenty! I need to get out of your way before I make you late."

Mikaela almost nosedived into his chest. "Good idea. We can discuss this some other time. Now where's my de--"

Optimus held her deodorant out to her, "This?"

"Thanks!"

He chuckled and disappeared so she could get ready in peace. Then it was a mad dash to get out the door and onto the road. They barely made it to K-mart on time. Mikaela literally had two minutes to spare before her first shift. She grasped anxiously at the door handle so she could open it and jump out as soon as Optimus rolled to a stop. He seemed to take forever turning into the parking lot and lining himself up just so beside the building.

Between the bathroom and that particular moment, Mikaela had grown accustomed to Optimus' human hologram. She just reminded herself over and over that he could pull up his real body whenever he wanted to.

Mikaela hopped out before Optimus shut his engine off. She met him by his back tires, giving him a moment to scan their surroundings. "Is this Donny among the people present?"

"Um..."

"Helloooo! Over here, gardening!" Donny's voice called over the chatter of the auto repair building.

"Ah, there he is." Mikaela grabbed Optimus' hand and practically hauled him over to the fenced-in garden department. It smelled like damp soil and chemicals, and the wet ground made the air feel muggy.

Donny was of average height, handsome and slightly pale with dark hair framing his face, mysterious hazel eyes and an infectious smile. His skin tone seemed to change depending on what he wore. At their interview, he'd been wearing a white shirt that made him look darker. Today, he wore a dark green polo shirt trimmed in orange and it made him appear paler. He had a cellular phone and a walkie talkie clipped to his belt.

"Hey, Mikaela!" Donny set the watering pail down and wiped his hands on a cloth. He wore what looked like an amethyst pendant around his neck. His gaze drifted to Optimus and his eyebrows went up, "Oh, who's this?"

"My boyfriend. Owen. He wanted to meet you."

"Owen Prime," Optimus stuck his hand out like a true professional, "Nice to meet you, Donald."

"Thanks. Same to you," Donny clasped Optimus' hand and waved with the other, "You can call me Donny. Everybody does."

"All right then, Donny."

Mikaela noticed Donny's cheeks turning bright red.  _Heh, cute_.

"So...trucker...sounds like fun."

"Mm, it has its moments." Optimus rumbled, his expression pleasant. He let go of Donny's hand and slid his arm around Mikaela's waist. "I suppose I should head on out. I've already made Mikaela late for work."

"Ah, that's okay," Donny stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back, "Hope to see more of you, Owen."

Optimus flashed that typical 'Optimus' smile of his that could mean many things. "I'm sure you will. Mikaela..." He kissed the top of her head, "I'll see you later."

Mikaela stood next to Donny while Optimus pulled his driver's side door shut and rolled away. Only after he'd turned out of the driveway did Donny face her, look straight into her eyes and grin.

"Mikaela, where did you find that guy? His voice is  _hot_."

She laughed and adjusted her ponytail. "He's from...a long way away."

"Hmm...well...honey, I'm jealous." He scrunched his nose, chuckled and picked up the watering pale he'd set down earlier. "Oh, here I am talking your ear off when I should be showing you your station. C'mon, it's right around the corner."

Donny didn't seem the least bit ashamed of his orientation and Mikaela already liked him for that. Optimus must have sensed it, too, because he stayed completely relaxed throughout their short meeting.

She let Donny show her to the cash register and pointed out a little notebook of bar codes in case the scanners misbehaved. She was also very glad when he revealed a panic button hidden under the counter in the event of a robbery.

"And I'll see about getting you a stool so you don't have to stand there all day when that tummy of yours starts to really pop out. So...I think you're set. Oh!" Donny paused a moment and scrawled a phone number on a post-it note and stuck it next to the cash register. "That's my cell number. If you need  _anything_ , you can call me."

"Thanks," Mikaela smiled, "Um...when does my insurance start to kick in?"

"Usually it takes a month, but..." He glanced at her stomach, "I think I'll sneak in and move it up a few weeks for you. Just don't tell."

She made a zipping motion over her mouth. "No problem."

"Great! Okay, sweetie, I need to run. I'll see you in a few hours." Donny said, already backing away. He looked over his shoulder and hurried down one of the aisles. "Damien, that doesn't go there! Floor mats are..." and the rest of what he said faded into the distance.

It didn't take Mikaela long to figure out the cash register. Donny showed her the basics after her successful interview, so it was just a matter of re-familiarizing herself with which button did what. Pretty soon she began making smooth transactions with customers and none of them knew she'd only started that day.

Ratchet took her to work the next morning. Optimus had left in the middle of the night, but nobody could tell her why. He didn't answer when she called him, nor did he reply to her emails. Mikaela spent the hours after work sweeping the warehouse floor. She ate dinner alone, terrified that something horrible happened without her knowledge.

Optimus' air brakes hissed outside just as Mikaela finished washing her dishes. She ran outside and grabbed his grill, which vibrated and exhaled hot air across her body.

"Where did you go?"

"I had something to attend to." Optimus replied coolly. He shut down his engine and the parking lot around them quieted. "Unfortunately, I miscalculated the time it would take t--"

"Then why didn't you answer my calls? My emails?"

He materialized his hologram and regarded her, his face serious. "Because where I went is top secret right now, and I could not risk being picked up by satellite GPS. Decepticon chatter has increased in the past seventy-two hours. There are reports of a landing in Arizona, and that is worrying me."

"When were you going to tell me  _this?_ " Mikaela frowned at him. Finding out secrets when she believed they were open--it plucked something unpleasant in her chest.

Optimus' expression didn't change. "When it became clear that the warehouse is no longer a safe place."

There was way more going on than what he told her, but Mikaela knew he'd inform her if the issue affected her personally. She decided to let it go for now and climbed into Optimus' cab.

"Just leave me a note if you do this again, okay?"

"All right. And I do apologize for worrying you."

Days at work ran together. Mikaela saw Judy walking up to pay for a can of wax. When Judy recognized who was behind the counter, she mumbled something about forgetting to grab WD-40 and rushed off.

"Hello to you, too." Mikaela muttered. She opened up the cooler Optimus handed her that morning and found a wrapped beef sandwich next to a banana and an unopened water bottle. He'd even written her a note:

_You crave beef the most on Tuesdays. Therefore, lunch is on me every Tuesday from now on.  
Enjoy_.

"Is Owen writing you love notes?"

Mikaela grinned and glanced over at Donny. "He made me lunch."

Donny's eyes drifted between her food and the note in her hands. He grinned, wiping off a spot on the counter where she could lay out her lunch. "That man is a keeper, Mikaela. Hang onto him."

"I plan to." She said, "It's hard finding somebody like him--usually they're gay or married."

"I know, seriously." Donny laughed heartily at that. "Men like Owen, geez. I swear he's from another planet or something."

Mikaela almost snorted lettuce out of her nose. "Oh, nuts, the secret's out."

"Like, seriously." Donny said in a fake valley girl voice. Then, in a more serious tone, he said, "Listen, I'm trying to work you in so you have some decent hours, but there might be a few weeks here and there where you won't be scheduled much. Thought I'd warn you now so it doesn't surprise you later."

That made her heart sink. She swallowed a mouthful of banana and opened her water bottle. "Thanks for the warning."

The rest of her day flew by after that. She kept Donny's warning to herself when Optimus arrived and picked her up.

.o

Getting into a routine took Mikaela no more than a month. Her insurance kicked in, she opened a bank account in her name and started putting aside money. She wanted to save up for a small apartment because, as much as she loved Optimus' company and the comfy mattress in his sleeper, a warehouse was no place to raise a baby.

Except the money wasn't adding up as fast as she'd hoped. The reason? Getting hours to work. Donny's warning turned out to be prophetic. The weeks when she picked up her schedule and saw only ten hours worth of work listed compounded her irritation.

"I'm sorry about it," Donny told her gently, giving her arm a sympathetic pat. "We're hiring a lot this year. Kids fresh out of school and all."

Mikaela sighed, gazing down at her belly. Her pregnancy was small, but obvious through her tight white wrap shirt. Just like in pregnancy photos of her mom, she would probably have a little bump for months and then suddenly blow up like a balloon in her third trimester. The baby's kicks were also getting more regular and noticeable, like having goldfish swim inside her, and she found that weird; every website she checked said most mothers felt fetal quickening much later than she was. Then again, her mom used to swear she felt her move around between the third and fourth months too.

"You forgot to carry a one," Optimus' voice startled her out of her thoughts. He'd materialized his hologram without a sound.

She jolted back to awareness and looked at the numbers she'd been adding up over and over. Missing a one, what a stupid mistake for simple addition! She sighed and fixed it. "At this rate, I'll never have enough to move into a studio apartment, let alone keep up with the rent every month. Even with insurance it's still sixty bucks to see a doctor. Seems like a little bit, but when you have food and my cell phone to pay for, it's a lot. Paying to stay in an apartment isn't just for the living space. It's gas, electricity, maybe even water and trash pick up. If I want to get a place already furnished, I have to shell out more for that. If I get an empty place, I have to shell out for the furniture. If I get a car to drive when you're not available, I have to pay for everything that comes with it, too. That all adds up into more than I can afford. I'm putting what I make and what Sam sends me aside into savings, but...argh. I hate money."

Optimus straightened with a slow blink of his optics. He walked off and climbed into the cab of his real body, returning a moment later.

"Mikaela," he hesitated, "I've been speaking to Simmons via email to verify whether I could offer this to you, and he said he'd take care of the issue. Now..." He lifted a finger to stop her from interrupting him. "I have thought deeply about this situation. I think it qualifies as an emergency." Opening his other hand, he revealed a black debit card with numbers and a name,  _Owen Prime_ , printed on it in gold. "I was incorrect earlier when I said I could not support you financially. This won't offer you medical insurance, so you will need to keep your job, but..." He held the debit card out to her, "This will help you pay for an apartment. It's going to be winter soon, and while I can keep you warm, I'm not so sure about the warehouse heating system."

The entire exchange left Mikaela too stunned to speak. She just sat there while Optimus placed the card in her hand. Part of her felt like a failure that she couldn't provide for her baby, but the other half was so grateful she wanted to burst. Once again Optimus proved himself a selfless, amazing person simply because he let her try on her own before stepping in with help.

"Are you sure?" she had to ask.

He winked at her "Yes."

And life seemed perfect from there...

...for about seventy-two hours.

Mikaela got her schedule for the next week and was pleased to discover hours for all five weekdays. Short hours, but short shifts were better than none at all.

Optimus dropped her off at K-mart on Monday. Before work, Mikaela yanked him into the shower with her, and taking that extra time forced her to rush. They ended up arriving in the K-mart parking lot five minutes before her scheduled shift. She used the time to freshen up and help Donny stock shelves, which was how she bumped into a piece of merchandise that didn't belong in the automotive department at all.

Mikaela leaned over to pick up the GPX portable stereo. It felt heavy in her hands, and the little screen that displayed the CD tracks and tuner was an eerie shade of reddish-orange. She turned it over in her hands to see if it had a price tag or barcode, but there was none.

"Maybe somebody set it down and forgot it," Donny suggested.

"Hope so." Mikaela said, because it couldn't possibly be what the warning bells in her mind said it was. She stashed it on the floor behind the counter, out of sight, and promptly forgot about it until lunchtime. A decision she'd regret later.

Donny popped into the automotive department with a slice of pizza on a paper plate. He plopped it down on the counter next to the cash register.

"Lunch is on me," he said with a wink. "So how's the truck driver?"

Mikaela laughed and took a bite, enjoying the sting of the pepperoni topping. "He's good. Oh! That reminds me. Nobody claimed that little stereo. It's right over--" and she froze when she noticed it was missing. She hadn't been away from the counter since she started, so nobody could've reached back and grabbed it without her knowing. The only way it would have moved is if it grew its own legs and walked off.

Not only that...her purse was open. She checked it and found all her personal items intact, but her phone was on when she knew she'd shut it off. The truth made her blood run cold. Photos of Optimus at Graceland and Roswell were still on her phone.

"--well that's weird," she covered her concern by pretending to rustle around, "Maybe I moved it and forgot where I put it. Don't you hate it when that happens?"

"Somebody might have claimed it when you weren't looking." Donny frowned, shrugged and went back to his own pizza slice. She noticed he hadn't shaved, so his chin had a little fuzz. "Anyway, I thought I'd let you know that we're going to have a Christmas party around December fifteenth..."

His voice muffled and sounded miles away. Mikaela's skin tingled suddenly as she swallowed the last bite of pizza. Her vision fluctuated like a digital image containing overly saturated colors. Then her ears started to ring with sounds of digital chirps and whines. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. Pictures flitted across the backs of her eyelids--a shape like the Fallen holding something that glowed faintly blue, but she couldn't make it out.

Donny's voice came back into focus. "...and the guys are coming, so I wondered if--hey, Mikaela? Sweetie? Are you okay?"

Her sight didn't clear. She shook her head and rubbed her temples. The visions scared her. "I-it's...I'm getting a migraine. I'll be okay working through it. I'm a little afraid to take anything because of the baby though."

"Right. You sit down for a minute and I'll get you a bottled water. It might help calm you down."

"My break's almost over."

"Don't worry about it."

Donny got her water anyway. She thanked him for it and drank heartily, wondering if staying on her shift was a smart idea when she felt so woozy. It was like being drunk, or thrusting her head into a fishbowl.

Paying customers lined up before Mikaela could change her mind. She had to sign off on a few items. Everybody looked at her funny as they left. Was her discomfort that obvious?

When the customers had all been attended, she dug a piece of paper out of her purse and scribbled down the date, time and symptoms she was experiencing.

The tingling, photophobia and ringing in her ears stopped the second she finished writing. She left the notepad by the register while she counted up her total for the next shift.

Donny reappeared just then, smiling a little sheepishly. "I feel so bad that I didn't send you home! You looked so pale earlier. Feeling better now?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Mikaela waved a hand and smiled back, "Told you it'd pass. I hate migraines, but mine don't last long. I handle 'em better if I distract myself anyway."

"Don't we all." Donny made a face, glancing at her notepad. "Oh, those are cute little drawings."

" _Huh?_ " Mikaela's eyes also jerked down to the notepad where she swore she'd written her notes.

It was covered in Cybertronian glyphs.

She snatched the notepad and jammed it into her purse. "I was just scribbling. It's nothing." The sound of air brakes outside signaled Optimus' arrival. "Well, Owen's here. I should get going. He's um...taking me out to dinner. Bye!"

"Mik--" Donny didn't get a word in edgewise. Mikaela was out the door and climbing into Optimus' cab faster than she ever moved in her life.

"Something's up," Mikaela hissed through her teeth. Her heart squeezed in on itself and Elita squirmed like a bag of worms. "Get us to the warehouse fast."

Optimus exited the parking lot as fast as legally possible. Mikaela moved over into the driver's seat to at least give the appearance of somebody driving and tried to swallow with a dry throat. She held her breath to calm down and keep herself from hyperventilating.

"What happened?" Optimus asked once K-mart disappeared out of his rear view mirrors.

"I wrote something that looks like the symbols Sam was drawing. I didn't even know I did it. I thought I was writing down when I was feeling funny like I did a couple months ago. I don't even know what the hell I wrote!" Mikaela gripped the wheel harder, "And I think there's a Decepticon trying to spy on me. It was a little portable stereo that disappeared for no reason. I stashed it right next to my feet, and it disappeared. Nobody human could have possibly reached over and grabbed it without me knowing, but it still took off."

She heard Optimus' engine grunt, a sound of mild frustration. He turned onto the road leading to the warehouse where Ironhide's dark form was parked in the dead grass beside the driveway.

Optimus' hologram materialized as Mikaela stepped out onto the cool concrete floor. She pulled the crumpled piece of notepad paper out and held it up for him to see. It showed six symbols at the top and each symbol appeared to branch off into others like a flow-chart. The longest line pointed to Optimus and Elita. "Here. The only marks I really recognize are your name and Elita's. I think some of them are the names on your face, but I can't remember any of them now."

He took the paper, unfolded it and scanned the lines and squiggles she'd scribbled. His optics narrowed. He frowned, rubbing his left cheek with his index finger. "Yes..."

"Yes what?"

"They are the names engraved on my face. The Primes who gave their lives to protect the Matrix." He spoke softly, distracted and a little disturbed. "What you've done here is the equivalent to drawing up a family tree. But it's not  _possible_..." He turned suddenly to the chartreuse hummer rolling inside. "Ratchet, call up your hologram. Mikaela, relax and we'll be with you in a minute."

Optimus grabbed Ratchet's arm when the medic's hologram appeared and pulled him over to the door. He handed him the notebook paper. They started talking to each other in Cybertronian--to Mikaela it sounded like the digital chirps and noises she heard at work--and Ratchet's face flashed the same disturbed look Optimus' did moments ago. She saw Ratchet point to Optimus' chest, and Optimus nodded his head.

_God, Optimus, are you telling him about us? What if Ratchet thinks it's just as sick as Sam did?_

Their holograms disappeared.

Optimus said, "Mikaela, stand aside. We're going to transform."

Mikaela hugged the wall by the bathroom door. The hummer and the Peterbilt broke open and reconfigured into the familiar shapes of Ratchet and Optimus.

Ratchet's left index finger transformed into a strange, rectangular tool with a clear glass box on top. Optimus spread his chest plates, and Mikaela watched the device in Ratchet's hand flicker bright green. Glowing, blue-white plasma-like material resembling pieces of Spark appeared in the square container, which he took off and set aside. Then they both faced her.

"Mikaela, I need a sample of DNA from you and your fetus." Ratchet said gently.

Mikaela covered her stomach with both hands. "Is that thing safe?"

"It's a micro-transwarper. I used it to tell you the gender of your fetus. I won't have to penetrate your skin at all. It zeroes in on microscopic amounts of material, allowing me to take samples from several areas without doing any damage. It's perfectly safe."

She looked up at Optimus. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ratchet...she just needed a little reassurance.

"It's all right." Optimus knelt and offered her his hand. "It doesn't hurt. This information is extremely important."

"I-I'm not in some kind of trouble, am I?"

"No." Ratchet lowered to one knee when she laid back on Optimus' palm. His large fingers were so deft that he lifted her shirt just enough to expose her slight bulge and brought the device close to her skin.

It didn't hurt at all, but it did get unpleasantly hot. Like sitting right beside a roaring campfire. She felt nervous sweat break out on her neck and in her armpits. Minute bits of red and pink fluid dripped upwards into the cube-shaped container. That seemed illogical until she peered closer and realized it was full of a clear, gel-like substance.

"Almost done." Ratchet twisted the cube off after a moment and set it down next to Optimus' sample. Then he added another and ran the device near her arm. The second he finished, Mikaela looked at her belly and arm. No blood, not even redness, but the hairs on her arm were a bit sparser than before.

"Now," the medic sat down in front of her, serious. "I know humans don't like to discuss sexual matters with anyone but mates and doctors, but this information is important. So please excuse me if I embarrass you."

Mikaela sat up, letting her feet dangle off the edge of Optimus' fingertips. "O-okay."

"I need to know exactly what date and time you mated with Sam."

She told him, giving an approximation of the time because she could only remember it was around sunset. Ratchet started to ask her questions about her relationship with Optimus, and it was  _really_  weird to discuss that while sitting in Optimus' hands.

"Hm...my readings indicate your hormone levels would have been ripe for ovulation three days after you mated with Sam. And you say you had intercourse on the twenty-ninth of that month?"

"Yeah," Mikaela nodded, trying not to squirm where she sat. "Optimus and I...um...got a little heavy three days after that. Why? What's this all about, Ratchet?"

Ratchet gathered up the samples he'd taken. "I'm not exactly sure." Then he produced a fourth box of fluid--probably material he got from Sam on the aircraft carrier. He must have if he'd been able to explain so much to Leo. "Optimus, how many times was she exposed to you during overload?"

"Seven," Optimus answered without hesitation. "Four times before the pregnancy--the fourth being just before her condition was discovered--and three times afterward."

Heat raced into Mikaela's cheeks and she ducked her head so her hair covered her face. She'd seen him overload eight times if she counted the Beautiful Agony video. Had they really been intimate that many times?

"Mm. Thank you." Ratchet's eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing else, simply nodding his head and laying the samples out on a large shelf he used as his workstation.

Mikaela felt Optimus' hands shift until they were cradling her comfortably in a sitting position. He held her like a fragile baby bird, his gaze gentle when he offered her a reassuring look.

"What did Ratchet take from you? I thought your Sparks were a ball of electricity."

"Ah," Optimus sat down and held her closer to his chest. "Sparks are made of plasma wrapped in electrical energy."

"Then what did I stick my fingers into?"

"The plasma itself is--"

"Excuse me." Ratchet made a noise similar to clearing his throat. If he realized he was rude for interrupting, he didn't let it show or apologize. "Mikaela, did you and Optimus achieve a simultaneous overload at any time?"

"Three days after the air craft carrier." Mikaela tingled at the memory of having an orgasm while roaring downhill at breakneck speed. She couldn't look Ratchet in the eye, though, and hugged herself while waiting for this to be over.

"Then your nervous system was...hm." Ratchet looked at a holographic display that was all glyphs and flow charts Mikaela couldn't make sense of. "Sam's DNA was slightly altered by the All Spark fragment  _and_  his contact with the Matrix of Leadership. It will return to normal in about a year, however...you received an altered spermatozoa cell that formed during or after he made contact with both. Judging by the time you and Sam mated and the moment you and Optimus achieved a simultaneous overload, the genetic materials in Sam's spermatozoa cell were altered further by the energy discharge, and..."

Ratchet's gaze drew a deliberate line between Mikaela and Optimus.

"...the fetal DNA matches your code, Optimus."


	7. Chapter 7

Optimus' mouth dropped open. Mikaela never saw him make a face of utter surprise like that before, and she would have laughed if the information wasn't so shocking.

"Wait! Whoa! Hold on..." Mikaela held up both hands in protest. "...so I had sex with Sam, I got pumped full of his sperm, but the baby isn't his? How the hell is that even possible?"

"His DNA was mutated by the All Spark fragment and the Matrix. Your contact with Optimus merely completed the reconfiguration in that single cell. I believe even more processes had to take place--like direct vaginal contact with Spark plasma--but I can't be sure unless the exact environment is replicated...and that is impossible."

"Like hell it is. I CAN tell you that I never put my crotch on his Spark."

Ratchet made a face. "Which is why this whole situation seems implausible."

Mikaela felt a shudder run along Optimus' frame. His expression grew suddenly serious and grave.

"Primes are born, not made," he said softly. "When I walked with my ancestors, they said a new Prime would emerge from humanity. I thought they meant Sam until, but they said I would bear it from my own Spark. I was brought back before they could tell me  _how_."

"Holy shit," Mikaela hugged her knees to her chest and ran both hands through her hair. She looked at Ratchet, "So, to make it real simple... _Optimus_  is actually the father of my baby?"

"That's correct."

"But won't that make her half robot?"

"No." Ratchet leaned closer to her, "But she will be born and live with the knowledge of the Primes existing within her mind. The knowledge will be passed to her children, though to a lesser degree for every generation until it is so diluted it becomes negligible. Quantum physics, remember?"

"Then why am  _I_  having episodes of seeing symbols and hearing voices?"

"Because the data is emerging in her brain as its capacity grows. She is merely transmitting it to you as it comes to her. You are acting as a backup hard drive, basically." Ratchet checked something on his wrist display. "This is new territory for me, but I expect the episodes will grow more intense and frequent as your fetus grows, so--"

Mikaela snarled, "Oh, fuck...that Decepticon might know..." She looked up at Optimus, "I lost track of that little stereo, remember? It could have been watching and seen me write those symbols down."

"What's that now?" Ratchet's eye ridges drew down in a perturbed frown, "When was this?"

Mikaela told him the whole story. He looked more and more upset as she went on. Ratchet made a face and called in Ironhide. After filling in the weapons specialist and listening to a fifteen minute rant on the insanity of it all, Ratchet fixed Mikaela in his shining blue optics.

"Mikaela, this situation makes you a target. You should quit--"

"I am  _not_  dropping that job. Medical insurance, remember? Optimus even said I shouldn't quit. Financial support or not, I need--"

" _Think_ , Mikaela!" Ironhide blustered, "We can't protect you if you're surrounded by collateral humans. You're safer amongst us."

"I have a life!" Mikaela was shocked at her own fury. "I have a life! I have family out there! I need to have a doctor check on Elita! I can't just disappear!"

"I will monitor your pregnancy from now on," Ratchet said.

"And what about everything else?" she challenged him.

"You won't have anything if this Decepticon has already seen the information you've written down and alerts Megatron to your work location." Ironhide's face plates shook, but Mikaela could tell he was trying to keep his voice at a civil volume. "Your child may be the bridge that brings humans and Autobots together, and Megatron doesn't want that. Most of your race only knows of the chaos the Decepticons have caused, and so their view of us is generally negative. But if you stay hidden until you give bir--"

"No! Screw this!" Mikaela leapt off Optimus' fingertips and landed on her hands and knees. Irrational and immature...she didn't care what they thought of her reaction. But the idea of giving up her life and hiding for five months didn't agree with her. It wasn't until she'd sprinted outside into the late afternoon sun that the truth of it all sank in.

The baby in her womb was Optimus Prime's child. It made no sense, it defied logic and it would probably give religious figures a massive heart attack. And in trying to make a life for her daughter, she'd been putting them both in serious danger.

"God, Elita...what am I supposed to do with you?" Mikaela sat in the grass and clutched her small belly bulge. She could remember the night she got home from her cross-country trek--how she'd looked into Optimus' eyes and wished her future children could have been his.  _I don't regret who your dad is, Elita...but isn't it ironic? This whole mess is exactly why I should be careful what I wish for_.

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice was soft--she knew without looking that it was his hologram talking. When she didn't answer, he knelt behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Sam's reaction was quite similar when I asked him to help us. My own was much the same when I learned of my heritage."

"Don't give me that shit, Optimus." Mikaela snapped. "It's not that I don't want to help you guys. I just wish the Decepticons would go die in a fire so I can close my eyes at night without worrying about being attacked." She paused and could faintly hear Ratchet and Ironhide arguing in Cybertronian.

"I've already informed Bumblebee of the situation. If you want, I'll have him tell Sam. He'll be able to explain it better. No offense intended to you, of course, but Sam is already upset by the current course of events. Bumblebee tells me his behavior has indicated emotional stress as of late."

"It's probably all the classes he's taking."

"Perhaps, but he does care about you."

"He's also worrying about a baby that isn't even his. It's just so--" She turned around so she could face Optimus and nearly guffawed at how facing the sunlight made his left eye squint almost completely shut. His left eye was his winking eye anyway, so it seemed natural that it'd be the one to half-close in bright light. It looked so human, and thus strange to see on a mechanical being. "You look like a knight in shining armor right now."

Optimus blinked his still-open eye and offered her a yellow dandelion blossom he dug out of the grass. It still had roots attached. "You must have the wrong fairy tale. I'm sorely lacking in a castle and I don't own a horse."

"I'm no princess and I don't need rescuing." She snorted and accepted the flower. Then she flopped to lay on her back as the sun dipped below the horizon. "But I'll take a Peterbilt and a warehouse instead of a horse and castle."

Grass rustled and Optimus laid down so his feet were pointing the opposite direction from hers--thus bringing their heads together. "You're in luck, I have both. Now what is the purpose for lying in this position?"

"There isn't one." Mikaela flicked grass at his forehead and turned her gaze to the sky. It shone a deep blue as the sun sank in the west. "Let's not tell Sam. He's...he's been traumatized enough. I think it's better he doesn't know. Knowing might put his neck on the line, too."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah. I mean, he's still dealing with symbols and voices himself, isn't he? Maybe he'll grow up a little if he believes the baby is his. I hate to lie like that, but can you imagine the mess if people knew?"

Optimus scrunched his face a little, but they were so close together that she only saw the tension around his eyes. "It would not bode well for Elita's safety, I agree. I will have to keep this information away from the human military as well. Otherwise she could meet just as cruel a fate as she would in Decepticon hands."

 _That_  idea didn't sit well in Mikaela's mind. She'd be poked, prodded, and--worse--lose that prospect of a peaceful away-from-the-hospital birth on which she'd set her heart.

"She'll know who her dad is, but...well I dunno." Mikaela toyed with the dandelion blossom, "...I don't think I'll go back to Sam now. I feel kinda guilty about it and I guess it's because he tried so hard to get me to like him." She watched a wisp of cirrus clouds dissipate on the horizon. "The things I planned for my life might be happening out of order, but they're still happening. I'm right next to the perfect person, I'm carrying his baby by a freak twist of science...now I just need to get the college degree and career and I'm all set. Big, white weddings are overrated anyway."

Optimus looked at her and his optics tilted slowly into a smile meant only for her. "The money in the account will cover your education. When this is over and you're safe, it will be waiting for you."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

She frowned at a question in her mind. "If he could, would Megatron kill our baby?"

"He might try to take her from you and corrupt her, first. Just like the Fallen corrupted him. Failing that...it's most certain he would consider her a hindrance and destroy her, but," Optimus' eyes blazed for a moment, "I won't let that happen as long as I have a Spark in my chest."

 _Now I really don't blame Sam for wanting to run like hell_ , Mikaela thought idly. She scooted closer and rested her warm cheek against Optimus' cool metal one.

They laid cheek to cheek for ages, watching the stars come out one at a time until the whole sky became a vast infinity. It was cold on the ground, but Mikaela hugged herself rather than spoil the moment.

"Nothing beats traveling in space," Optimus whispered. "No gravity, no sense of up or down, it's just yourself and the void, surrounded by the hiss of the cosmic microwave background or blips from stellar radio sources."

"Sounds like it's pretty cool up there."

"It is."

Mikaela's worries didn't allow her imagination to take her on the flights she wanted it to.

"I don't know what I'm gonna tell Donny." She heaved a sigh. "If I need to go into hiding, I should at least show up with a decent reason for quitting the job I was so desperate for when I applied."

"You could tell him my base of employment has moved to another city, which means we are moving to stay with it and the commute would be inconvenient." Optimus' low voice was right in her ear. How he replicated a perfect whisper without lungs still boggled her. "Perhaps it's a sudden change and you only have a week to prepare."

"Sounds like a plan. But I should go in tomorrow and tell him in person. There's some things on this planet you just don't do over the phone or by email. Breakups and quitting a job are a few."

Mikaela could tell Optimus wasn't very pleased with that, but he didn't argue either.

"All right, but I will stay close by," he said.

"Works for me." She ran a hand through her hair, too comfortable to move just yet. Laying still made her intensely conscious of the little swishing sensations in her lower belly. "Somebody's practicing for Olympic gymnastics."

"Oh?" The grass rustled when Optimus sat up and adjusted himself to recline beside her. He laid his hand lightly on the bump below her navel. "What does that feel like to you?"

Mikaela laid her hand on top of Optimus'. "Feels kind of fluttery. Like when I'm tossing and turning at night. Do I ever keep you awake when I do that?"

"Your movements at night don't bother me at all."

"I also have a lot more room to wiggle around." She pointed at her stomach and grinned, "Elita only has a space about the size of your hand, I guess. So she's just floating around, bumping into things like a little astronaut. Lucky little brat has nothing to worry about except what goes through the umbilical cord."

He chuckled. "I've also noticed less vomiting."

"Um...yeah. I don't miss it. I still get nauseated." Mikaela sat up, afraid that talking about it would make her sick to her stomach. "I feel like pasta..."

Optimus graciously helped her to her feet. "I think you have leftover ziti noodles from yesterday."

They walked back into the warehouse together as a cold wind started to blow across the grass.

.o

Quitting a job with a great boss was like breaking up with a really sweet boyfriend--it sucked. Mikaela mentally cursed the Decepticons in her mind the whole way to the K-mart where she worked. Beside her, Optimus' strange human hologram appeared to pout while he drove. Before they left, she had to remind him that people didn't wear short sleeves on a chilly morning, so upon passing a line of specialty clothing shops, he quickly scanned something in a store window and came up with a replica of an expensive lightweight leather jacket.

"Better?"

It suited him almost as well as the awkwardly crooked front tooth in his smile.

"Mmhmm," Mikaela nodded her approval. "Listen, Optimus...if nobody can cover my shift, I might have to work for my last day. What'll you do then? You can't just sit there for three hours."

"We'll hop that creek when we come to it."

If her mood wasn't so dark, Mikaela would have snickered at the blunder in his figure of speech. She gazed out the window where the sun hadn't broken the horizon yet. It was  _early_. So early that she felt nauseated enough to trade her usual pancake and orange juice breakfast for saltine crackers and 7up.

Optimus' engine rattled in a burst of jakes as he turned the corner into the parking lot. Mikaela waited for the hiss of air brakes before she opened the door and climbed out. The store wasn't open yet--not for two more hours--so the parking lot was empty except for employee vehicles clustered together in spaces near the front entrance and the white Kenworth t800 delivery truck parked in the unloading area.

Donny wasn't in the gardening department. Mikaela sighed at Murphy's Law for making her hunt the one day she really needed to talk to him. She checked her phone. As usual, it had no reception right outside the door.

"Damn. I'll go in and try to call him up. Optimus, I'll be right back."

Optimus shut his engine off. "I'll wait."

Nodding, Mikaela dashed inside with her thumb already dialing, but froze when she noticed the little portable stereo from yesterday sitting between two piles of tires. The whole reason she had to quit was because of that little junk heap! She put her phone away, grabbed a plastic bag and stuffed the stereo into it. Then she hurried into the ladies restroom in the back of the store. After closing the door, she flung the device halfway across the floor. Usually equipment like that broke after such rough treatment, and this stereo didn't even spill its batteries.

"I know what you are, you little freak!" Mikaela snapped. "Who are you?"

The portable stereo sprouted limbs and suddenly burst into a familiar four-foot-tall shape. Razor sharp edges gleamed an odd gold hue in the buzzing fluorescent lights. Four red, spider-like optics peered up at her in what she could only describe as a hateful frown.

"Frenzy?" Mikaela stared in shock. Didn't Simmons have his head?

"Not Frenzy!" The little robot squeaked. He rattled off in Cybertronian clicks and whirrs before speaking English again, "Rumble! Rumble! Not Frenzy! Rumble! Want fetus! Give fetus!"

Then he launched himself at Mikaela's face!

"Want fetus! Give fetus!"

"Augh! Get away from me!" Mikaela covered her head and ducked aside. Rumble crashed into the wall behind her, cracking the tiles. His limbs clattered against the ground. She shoved the trash bin at his legs right before she scrambled out the door with him shrieking at her heels. She smacked into Donny, who was emerging from storage room in the back. He had his usual watering pail sloshing in his hand.

"Hey, Mikaela! What's the matt--" he spotted Rumble. "What the fu--"

"Get down!" She shoved Donny to the ground as Rumble went flying over their heads and smashed against the men's room door. "Run!"

Donny got up at the same time Rumble did. He grabbed the watering pail and swung it at Rumble, who jumped over it and latched into his employee vest. Donny managed to fend the Transformer off by shoving the pail over his head and pushing him to the ground. Rumble rolled around in a puddle of water with his head stuck in the pail. It wouldn't hold him for long. Mikaela yanked on Donny's sleeve and they sprinted down the toy aisle with miniature gunfire ripping into the shelves and toys around them. Donny almost tripped over a pile of G.I. Joe figurines, and Mikaela saw a few Go-Bots explode. She wanted to kick herself for trying to confront the little Decepticon alone. Now Donny was mixed up in her mess, and it'd be her fault if he got hurt or killed by crossfire.

"What the hell is that thing?" Donny yelled over the rat-tat-tat of ricocheting bullets.

"Remember that little stereo?" Mikaela herded Donny towards the end of the aisle. The toy aisle turned into the fitness aisle. She grabbed a five pound dumbbell when the gunfire stopped.

"Y-you mean those robots in Mission City and Shanghai weren't fake?"

"They--" Mikaela's eyes widened at Rumble emerging onto the shelf above Donny's head. "Donny, duck!"

Rumble leapt the instant Donny ducked, and got a face full of dumbbell for his efforts. The impact knocked an optic clean off his head. Rumble hit the ground, screaming and writhing like a spider with a leg ripped off. Donny ran up and punted the little robot eerily like Sam punted Frenzy's head, but they didn't wait to see where he landed. They were halfway to the door when Mikaela's stomach staged a revolt. She doubled over, vomiting up a bitter soup of salty cracker chunks and bile. Donny clutched her shoulders, half-dragging her still-puking body towards the door. Mikaela regained control of herself once the cold morning air hit her sweaty face.

"Are you okay?" Donny asked while simultaneously shoving a line of carts in front of the door to block it.

"Damn morning sickness still comes and goes." Mikaela spat. She grabbed her knees, gasping for the breath she left in the bathroom. Her heart beat with such fury she heard the blood roaring through her ears.

"Oh, thank God," Donny straightened, "Cops."

 _Cops?_  Mikaela willed her head to lift and reflections of a black and white Saleen glinted across her dilating pupils. "Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"That's not really a cop car." Mikaela paused to dry heave, bringing up only a few drops of acid and bile. "None of Mission City or Shanghai was fake, Donny," she whispered, inching slowly towards one of the cement pillars lining the roofed sidewalk outside the store. Her mouth and throat stung. "No matter what happens here, you didn't see anything. There's a lot on the line. More than you know."

"What do they want with  _you?_  You're scared to death of  _something!_ "

"Gee, ya think?"

"Just--" but Donny cut off when he saw what the police car did next.

The Saleen split apart and reconfigured into the hideous form of Barricade. He took a step towards the store. His malicious red eyes made Mikaela feel sick all over again, but she couldn't look away.

Optimus blasted his air horn. Black smoke gushed from his exhaust pipes and his engine roared in spurts Mikaela recognized from the truck shows her father took her to--and she suddenly knew what was happening. The Peterbilt's huge tires shrieked on the asphalt in a spectacular burnout. Gouts of smoke surrounded Optimus' rear tires and drifted until it obscured Barricade in a grayish mist. His horn blasted again, closer this time. The sound bounced off the storefront walls and Mikaela couldn't tell exactly where it came from. Blinded and confused, Barricade halted less than a body-length from the store.

Clanks sounded when Optimus' form rose and changed shape. Barricade charged him before he finished transforming. The smoke cleared and the impact rang like a shot. Optimus attained his robot mode as they rolled across the parking lot, their bodies smashing light poles and cars like toys.

"Turn over the female." Barricade demanded after a cheap blow left Optimus doubled over.

"No." Optimus growled. Suddenly, he bum rushed Barricade, slamming his shoulder into the Saleen's midsection. They skidded along the ground in a cacophony of screeching metal and tires. "You'll never touch her as long as I have something to say about it."

One last blow knocked Barricade offline. Optimus pushed him away and approached the cracked storefront. He knelt down. Mikaela let out the breath she didn't know she held. Seeing his face catch the sun after a harrowing fight was comforting to her.

Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same for Donny.

Donny staggered backwards when Optimus' four foot tall visage came closer.

"Mikaela, Donny, are you two all right?"

"We're fine." Mikaela choked out, her throat sore from throwing up.

"Owen?" Donny whispered.

Optimus regarded him gently, "My name is actually Optimus Prime."

The man's hazel eyes widened into saucers. "N-nice to meet you, Mr. Prime..."

"Just call me Optimus." Optimus smiled, but Donny didn't seem to recognize the expression. He spoke more softly, "Don't be afraid. I won't--"

Mikaela caught a flash of motion behind Optimus' left hip. Barricade was moving!

"Optimus! Behind you!"

The overhang was the only thing that kept Barricade from toppling Optimus onto Mikaela and Donny. Mikaela heard a zapping noise. Optimus' body briefly convulsed and he dropped to his knees. He'd been electrocuted by the store signs, but he recovered quickly. He caught the big, red K when it fell and hurled it in Barricade's face. It exploded into crimson slivers on contact, thwarting whatever attack was about to strike.

"Donny, Mikaela, get behind the pillar!"

Donny dragged Mikaela because her legs were too rubbery to move. The next sound Mikaela heard was metal on metal mixed into Barricade snarling. She peeked around the pillar.

"Megatron knows she has the next Prime in her womb." Barricade said.

"I won't let him corrupt her the way he's been corrupted." Optimus snapped. He kicked Barricade aside.

"So be it." Barricade got to his knees and bellowed, "Rumble!"

Rumble burst through the glass doors out of nowhere, showering Donny and Mikaela in glass. Barricade transformed back into a car. The tiny, silver robot leapt through the passenger-side window. Optimus sidestepped Barricade when he peeled out of the parking lot. His optics widened and he glanced skyward. Then he sprinted straight at Donny and Mikaela, and somehow transformed while running. By the time he reached them he was a Peterbilt again, his grill shimmering in the early morning sun.

"Get in!" Mikaela threw herself at the driver's side door.

Donny seemed hesitant. "But--Shanghai..."

"Donny,  _come on!_ " she hedged. "You see that red symbol on his grill? They're the good guys! Now come on!"

The young man climbed in, and his reluctance to touch anything would have been funny in any other situation. Mikaela buckled his seat belt for him before doing the same to her own. She was sweating under her torn black cardigan and strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Glass fell off her clothes when she shook herself. Her forearms were bleeding slightly from the nicks and scratches she got fighting for her life. Donny had small scratches on his jaw and arms from Rumble's assault and flying glass. He was lucky he didn't suffer worse injuries.

Optimus locked his doors in the same instant he skidded out onto the road. Behind them, something crashed into the parking lot. Asphalt flew across their path. Optimus shifted gears and picked up speed. K-mart looked like a war zone shrinking in the side view mirrors.

"Shit!" Donny cried, "I hope nobody was--"

Optimus' air horn blasted, clearing away traffic. "Starscream is circling. I'm going to try to lose him, and failing that I will lead him away from civilians. Brace yourselves, I'm about to break the speed limit."

They blew a red light and careened around a corner amidst blaring horns and skidding tires. Donny braced himself against the side window.

Mikaela reached over and grabbed his hand. "Just hang on." She faced the dashboard, "Is there any safe place to let Donny off?"

"I will slow at the freeway overpass ahead. Get out and stay there. Do not step out from under the bridge. Is that understood?" Optimus barked the words out in a low tone so serious Mikaela couldn't even think of arguing. This was Optimus being a Prime, a leader.

Mikaela looked at Donny and nodded. Donny's eyes were glassy, but he sat up straighter with one hand on the door handle. She reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "Just do what he says and we'll be fine."

Optimus' jakes roared. He slowed to a stop under the bridge. "Now!"

Donny and Mikaela both unbuckled and leapt out onto the rough pavement. Optimus' doors banged shut by themselves. He took off, weaving through traffic without grazing a single car. His passage forced vehicles onto the freeway shoulder. Angry motorists shouted obscenities, unaware of the danger far ahead. Real police would probably get involved soon. Mikaela just hoped Optimus knew how to deal with that situation when it arose.

"That was...Owen was..." Donny panted. He stumbled off the freeway tar and sat down hard in a clump of brush. He'd skinned his elbow on the street. The wound looked angry and red against his pale arm. "But I saw him. I talked to him--I shook his human hand!"

"A hologram. A really sophisticated one."

Cold air blew under the overpass, which acted like a wind tunnel and made it feel even colder. Mikaela hugged herself and shivered. Donny probably had it worse; his clothes were still wet from swinging a watering pail at Rumble.

"It's all a really long story," she said. In the distance she heard popping sounds like fireworks going off. Puffs of black smoke became visible on the horizon. It was a fire fight, and Mikaela prayed that Ratchet and Ironhide were there as backup.

 _Please be okay, guys_. Mikaela pressed her hands together, though she wasn't sure who she was praying to. God, maybe.  _How much should I tell Donny?_

No answer came. She relied on her own wits.

"Hey, Donny...can you believe I was coming in today to tell you I had to quit because I'm moving?" Mikaela shook her head, smiling sardonically at the whole situation. "I can't get detailed--but the bad guys are called the Decepticons, and I have something they want. That's why I was leaving...Optimus is going to hide me for my own protection."

"I can sure as hell see why you don't want to get mixed up with them." Donny hugged his knees. "But I'm an empath, and I can tell you have really strong feelings for Owe--um...for Optimus."

" _That_  is an even  _longer_  story," Mikaela leaned back and hoped he'd drop the subject. "We click, okay?"

"You think a gay guy like me, who gets crap for liking guys more than girls, is gonna knock your relationship choices? Honey, you're nuts." He glanced at his elbow and winced, taking out a tissue to sop up the dripping blood. "What goes on between you two isn't any of my business. I'm not even gonna  _ask_  about this whole Prime in the womb thing. I've got a feeling you can't tell me."

The unexpected response broke the tension. Mikaela doubled over and laughed until her sides hurt. It cut off abruptly as another explosion set something on fire. Black smoke rose in huge, roiling clouds. Traffic came to a standstill.

 _Oh, God! That's getting closer!_  Mikaela's eyes widened.

From somewhere far off came the chop-chop of police and news helicopters. They started circling like moths around a lamp.

Suddenly, another semi horn blasted from the east. The Kenworth from the K-mart parking lot roared by without its trailer and vanished into the smoke blowing slowly towards the overpass. Its horn rose and fell in pitch as it passed in a white blur. Mikaela glimpsed Autobot sigils on its mud flaps.

The smoke had just reached the overpass when Ironhide skidded to a halt right in front of them. His doors swung open without a word. Mikaela climbed into the driver's seat by habit and Donny joined her from the passenger side.

"I have orders to return Donald to the K-mart store," Ironhide said brusquely.

"Are you fucking nuts?" Donny reached for the door handle. "We just came from there! It's a disaster!"

"You're to tell everyone that it was a freak meteor impact." Ironhide ignored Donny's blustering. He obeyed the flow of traffic and speed limit, and his voice rumbled through the speakers, "It's for your safety, human. This is a war you don't want to be part of."

"Wait! Whoa, wait a--"

"Donny, just go with it." Mikaela leaned back in her seat. "The less you know, the safer you are."

"The front of my store is trashed!" Donny sniffed angrily, his thick eyebrows forming a wrinkle on his brow. "Don't I get to at least know why?"

"Me." Mikaela said, hoping to appease him.

The young man said nothing more. He stared out the window while Ironhide took a roundabout path back to the ruined store. A few confused employees were milling around the edge of--

 _Somebody landed here!_  Mikaela realized. She also noticed the white Kenworth hadn't moved, so whoever landed must have chosen it for their vehicle mode.

"I see Kristina and Sarah S. Hm..." Donny craned his neck, "Dunno where Lori and Stacy are. Candice and the other Sarah don't come in until two, and Damien has the day off..." He grabbed his cell phone.

Mikaela caught his hand. "Remember--meteor."

"And I cut myself up slipping and falling on broken glass," he added sarcastically. "Seriously, Mikaela, do you think it'll fly?"

"Don't worry about that. The government is pretty good at covering stuff up. I've already said way too much."

Donny hung his head and his hair fell in his eyes. He rapped his fingers on the edge of Ironhide's door. "So, what's this one's name again?"

"Ironhide," Mikaela replied.

He nodded. "Where do I send your last check?"

"I dunno. I'm on the run, remember?" Mikaela said as the people milling around the crater started drifting towards Donny. "You should go take care of them. Lori just came out, and she looks pissed."

"Yeah." Donny used a twitch of his head to flick stray hairs off his face. He rolled his eyes skyward and jiggled his leg. "She's ex-military, you know--she'll be the one to ask all the questions about what happened. Shit, she might know exactly what kind of blast this was and that it wasn't a meteor."

"I know." Mikaela squirmed around in her seat. She felt genuinely guilty getting more people caught in the web of robots and war she fell into two years ago. "I'm sorry about all this, Donny..."

"It's gonna be okay." Donny seemed to be realizing the gravity of the situation. He always was attuned to the feelings of others. "Do what you need to do, Mikaela. Stay safe, okay? Now scram, I need to go clean up the toy aisle before somebody sees it."

"Maybe Lori already did."

"I hope not." Donny waved her off. "I just hope the guy who interviews me isn't too cute. Don't want to be blushing like a fool on Fox News."

Mikaela's expression softened into an amused smile that Donny shakily returned. Then Ironhide rudely yanked his door from the man's grasp and closed it, backing up in the same smooth motion.

Ironhide spoke when they reached the intersection. "We will stop by the warehouse so you can pack your essentials. Do it fast. We have to abandon it. Optimus found a home in a remote location where you can safely stay. Apparently the seller was happy to accept a large sum of money with no questions asked."

"Optimus bought a house?" Mikaela blinked.

"Technically, it's a cabin. Optimus purchased it last month in the event of a situation like this. He just didn't want to say anything about it and risk the info being leaked to your coworkers. He is already on the way there." Ironhide's frame seemed to shake with repressed anger. "Starscream broke off his attack like the coward he is."

"Wait, last month? He never--" Mikaela heard her cell phone go off and forgot about her questions. She took the call, her nervous hands fumbling to unfold the device, "Hello?"

"Mikaela!" Sam's voice erupted from the earpiece. "I just saw the Boss on the news! Then I saw Lennox telling the cameras to shut off. What happened there? Are you okay?"

"Oh, great," she groaned, "The Decepticons decided to come after me. I'm fine though. Ironhide has me right now. I have to go into hiding because it's getting really dangerous. I might not be able to call you anymore. There's a lot at stake."

"What?"

"I can't say any more. The less you know, the safer you are."

"Should I fly back there?"

"No! Dammit, Sam, please don't stick your neck out like that. I'll make sure Bumblebee keeps you updated on this mess. If you get involved, you might--"

"You must end your call. It may already be traced." Ironhide turned a corner and pulled up behind Ratchet at an intersection near the warehouse. It got quiet while they sat there, waiting for the light to turn.

"Hear that, Sam? I gotta go. I'm fine. Do yourself a favor and stay out of this, okay?"

"Mik--"

Mikaela hung up on him. Why did his failure to ask about the baby sting? Was he pretending it never happened? Had she cut him off before he got a chance to? She swallowed over the hot lump in her throat.

"I have to dump my phone, don't I?"

"I'm afraid so," Ironhide said with unusual gentleness. "It can be traced. The Decepticons have Soundwave in orbit. He can trace communications and hack into satellites to locate you anywhere on the globe. We can encrypt an internet connection, but scrambling primitive cellular phone signals causes too much interference." He shifted his tires. "Set the phone on the ground between my tires. I'll run over it to destroy it."

"Just a second." Mikaela rattled the buttons to send quick texts to her dad and mom, making up excuses that she had to work during the holidays and wouldn't be around. When she was done she went through her photo collection for a last look at them all.

The pictures of Optimus were too dangerous to keep, though Mikaela hated losing them. She swung the door open and leaned as far down as she dared, setting her mobile phone right behind Ironhide's front tire. Then she pulled herself back up and shut the door. "Okay."

Ironhide rocked back on his wheels. The phone crunched once. Mikaela heard the remains crackle when the light turned and they drove away. The second Ironhide stopped at the warehouse, Mikaela hopped out. Neither Ratchet nor Ironhide let her go in until they'd opened the main doors and made sure it was safe.

"Go, quickly!" Ratchet hissed.

Mikaela ran for her duffle bags. The first one was filled up with her clothes, her laptop, important papers, toiletry and bathing supplies. The other she stuffed with canned goods and non-perishables--not to eat on the road, but because she didn't know whether or not there would be food in the cabin. Not to mention her stomach remained in a knot so tight she feared eating would make her sick. Half the time, she didn't know whether the twitching feeling in her belly was gas or Elita moving.

She was surprised, but grateful when Ratchet and Ironhide pulled out their holograms to help. When she finished packing, the bag of canned goods was too heavy for her to carry quickly.

Next, she paused in the bathroom to empty her screaming bladder, ignoring Ironhide's snapping at her to hurry up. Then it was back on the road. They spent less than ten minutes at the warehouse.

When Ironhide's door closed behind her, it felt like a prison cell.

"Get ready." The Topkick said, "It's a six hour drive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the type of truck Mikaela saw zoom by: http://i.imgur.com/FvsGu4g.jpg


	8. Chapter 8

The drive with Ironhide proved amazingly boring. He wasn't nearly as talkative as Optimus, and he complained loudly every time she needed to stop for a bathroom break.

"Your waste management systems are so inefficient!"

"Yeah? Well, you try having a uterus pushing down on your bladder." Mikaela shot back, only halfway joking. She had the distinct impression that Ironhide was angry at her, yet she didn't feel comfortable asking him why. Maybe he hated driving around with people inside.

Back on the road again, following the broken white lines marking the lanes. Morning drifted into noon. Clouds marred the distant horizon.

"Optimus cares greatly about you." Ironhide said off-handedly after a long silence. "But this whole situation is...unnatural."

"As if I had any control of it." Mikaela sighed. Did Ironhide feel the same way about this as Sam did?

The whole mess  _was_  weird, but Mikaela found herself seeing past the mechanical features of the Autobots. She was about as conscious of them as one noticed the lack of eye contact in a blind person they were close to or the wheelchair and curled hands of a dear friend with severe cerebral palsy.

Ironhide merged into another lane and the freeway started taking a decidedly upward tilt. They were heading towards the mountains.

"Do you think it's disgusting?" Mikaela figured she'd ask. Three years ago, she would've said yes herself. It all changed when she saw Optimus break down and cry in her arms--that moment the ones after proved to her they were more than just sophisticated machines. They were sentient. They thought and felt like human beings. They just happened to be metal and come in varying shapes and sizes.

Ironhide revved his engine and followed Ratchet closely. "Optimus' personal life is none of my business."

"I thought you were closer friends than that."

"We  _are_  close friends. He just doesn't discuss his interfacing escapades with me." Ironhide retorted. "And for once, I'm rather glad he doesn't. I do not mean to insult you, Mikaela, but what you two are doing is unnatural."

Crossing her arms, Mikaela clamped her mouth shut against the string of curses trying to fly free off her vocal cords. What  _could_  be more natural than the way she and Optimus felt about each other? Didn't love go beyond the boundaries of gender and race? Mikaela hated feeling suddenly self conscious of her choice to stay with Optimus and be happy rather than returning to Sam and always longing. She hated that stark, cold reminder of how different they all were.

Even worse--she felt the familiar burning in her throat and stinging in her eyes. On top of it all, she had to cry.  _Damn hormones!_  She thought, biting her lips hard to control herself.

"What's Ratchet think of all this?" Mikaela ventured to ask.

"He hasn't said anything on the matter. Ask him yourself."

And that was the last thing either of them said on the subject for the rest of the trip.

Mikaela laid her head back against the head rest and watched the sky darken with clouds. Within an hour it went from crystal clear to bitter cold rain. Ironhide adjusted his speed so he wouldn't hydroplane and turned on the heater.

"Psst, Ironhide. Turn on your windshield wipers. It looks too suspicious if you don't."

Ironhide not only turned on the wipers, he also turned on his radio and blasted, of all things, country music. That nearly cracked Mikaela up because everybody except Bumblebee put on country music once in awhile. Hearing three radios tuned to the same station took getting used to. At this particular moment, James Taylor was on.

_"...I've seen fire and I've seen rain._   
_I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end._   
_I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend._   
_But I always thought that I'd see you again..."_

Then she noticed Ironhide's com was open--evidenced by a blinking light on the dash display.

 _He's broadcasting it to Ratchet_ , she realized, and it lightened her mood a little.  _Heh, that's cute...sending music back and forth_.

Ratchet replied with music by Keith Anderson:

_"But when I hear your name,_   
_I feel rain fallin' right out of the blue sky._   
_An' it's the fifth of May, an' I'm right there starin' in your eyes._   
_An' nothin's changed, an' we're still same._   
_An' I get lost in the innocence of a first kiss,_   
_An' I'm hangin' on to every word rollin' off of your lips:_   
_An' that's all it takes, an' I'm in that place,_   
_Every time I hear your name..."_

How could she stay mad at Ironhide when he and Ratchet were acting a lot like she and Optimus did?

Mikaela opened her mouth to ask Ironhide how he met Ratchet, but they exited the freeway in a swish of tires over rain soaked asphalt. They started up a winding, risky road leading into a wooded area, and Mikaela realized Optimus did a lot of research before he picked this place. Any Decepticons arriving on wheels would have a heck of a time navigating the road, and the trees offered some cover that made spotting them from the sky difficult.

The air started to get stuffy. She cracked the window a little to take in the fresh smell of wet trees. Ironhide's tires crackled on piles of multicolored fall leaves. She wished there was better light so she could see the pretty autumn colors she knew surrounded them.

It stopped raining. Ironhide shut off his windshield wipers.

Mikaela asked, "How much further?"

"Three more miles."

"Geez, can Optimus fit on this road?"

"This road is a main thoroughfare for trucks such as his alternate mode." Ironhide said. "The cabin is off to the side, out of sight. We'll soon begin setting up a perimeter of Decepticon-seeking sensors."

"Lemme guess--normal cars won't trip them, but a Decepticon will?"

"Yeah." Ironhide huffed. "Now be quiet while I locate the coordinates of the cabin."

 _Cabin_.

The word gave Mikaela images of a dinky building made out of timber with only a fireplace for warmth and nasty little rats and spiders hiding in the rafters.

Thusly, she was shocked when Ironhide took a last turn and pulled up beside a huge, beautiful two-story building like something out of a Bob Ross painting. The decks on both the first and second floors wound all the way around. She saw an outdoor hot tub on the bottom deck and a silver barbecue up on the upper level.

"Holy..." Mikaela ducked out of Ironhide's door to gawk open-mouthed at the giant  _luxury_  cabin surrounded by trees she could only make out as shadows in the dark. Somebody's headlights glinted off solar panels on the roof.

Optimus' hologram waited at the front door. Mikaela couldn't be more glad to see him after the events of the early morning. She jumped the front steps, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face against his cheek plates.

"Oof. Well, hello to you, too." He caught her and rubbed a hand over her hair. "I'm all right. I hope the drive wasn't too rough."

"Nah."

"Good. Then watch while I show you this lock. It's a combination code rather than requiring a key." Optimus turned to the door and pressed  _53009_. "I configured it into an easy to remember number."

Mikaela chanted it over and over in her head.  _It's the first two digits of Optimus' calling frequency and the last digits of my old cell phone number. I'll remember it_. "Got it."

"Cool." Optimus' inner dork flashed itself. He scooped Mikaela up bridal style, smiled and winked. "I do believe it is customary to carry the female over the threshold of a new dwelling..."

"Yeah," Mikaela never felt safer than she did then, "when people get married."

"We might as well be." Optimus winked again as he carried her into the warm interior and set her down a few feet from the door.

Huge didn't even begin to describe it. The space Mikaela stood in was large enough for a full-sized Optimus to stand up  _and_  lay down with his arms fully extended to either side. Wood paneling covered just about everything--but it was  _nice_  wood paneling with decent finish that smelled like the forest outside. The furniture appeared to be all rustic iron frames and red cushions. Curtains, rugs and pillow covers sported Native American designs. And the windows...they were gigantic! Mikaela had panoramic views of the woodland area.

She didn't notice Optimus went back outside to get her bags until she looked over her shoulder.

"The kitchen is already stocked." He said. His red and blue body looked so incredibly out of place against the wood paneling. Machine next to nature--it didn't fit--but it didn't fit in a  _humorous_  way, so again Mikaela couldn't complain. "The high definition television above the fireplace behind you has cable. I suggest you explore the upstairs area. One bedroom has a hot tub right near the bed--and I do recall you looking up using water to help you handle your labor pains. I think whoever lived here before you had a child of their own, because one bedroom is converted into a nursery. I wasn't aware of that until I arrived and walked the interior myself."

Was there anything Optimus  _didn't_  think of when he picked out this place? Mikaela noticed the staircase beside the front door. Its steepness surprised her. Optimus flipped the light switch by the door. The track lights--set on a curving silver rod with fixtures shaped like flowers--lit the stairway nicely. This theme would appear throughout the house. She took her time climbing to the next floor. An open door was right at the top--a dinky half-bath with a toilet and sink. The toilet had a fuzzy red lid, but thankfully a plain white seat. She found the nursery right next door, decorated in neutral colors with a bassinet, a crib and a closet full of toys. Two windows above the crib looked out over the trees. The antique-looking dresser had a lamp shaped like a dancing brown teddy bear wearing blue overalls and playing an accordion.

Mikaela backed out to check out the master bedroom at the very end of the upstairs hallway. It seemed huge and open, sporting the slanted underside of the roof with a ceiling fan attached to the central beam. Dark blue was the color choice for this room; the bedspread, lampshades and drapes were the same shade as her bedroom at home, and that made the trip ache a little less. The king-sized bed sat tucked into an alcove in one corner. It only took up a fourth of the space in the entire room. Mikaela spotted the triangular Jacuzzi in the opposite corner from the bed. She could imagine bracing herself on the edges of the tub while she labored, and mentally nodded to herself. She rubbed her shoe on the oval-shaped rug marking the middle of the room and ran her hands along the edge of the little loveseat situated between the bed and the hot tub. Above it, a large picture window looked out over the forest, but it was too dark to see much. Turning, she noted the fireplace opposite the foot of the bed and, three steps to the right of it, the small thirteen-inch TV-and-DVD set sitting between two fake palm plants on a plain oak dresser.

The master bath had a nice shower and granite countertops like the downstairs kitchen. Also, the blue theme from the bedroom carried over in the form of towels, curtains and rugs. A sliding door leading outside took up space between the shower and the toilet.

She walked out of the bedroom and spotted another doorway near an ornate grandfather clock right across from the master suite. It led onto an indoor loft so huge it housed a pool table, a ski-ball table and a pinball machine with a  _Voltron_  theme. A red sectional in the corner offered space to relax and look out over the forest.

Mikaela felt heat rushing up to her eyes. She padded back into the bedroom and pressed her first to her mouth. Her vision blurred when she leaned on the doorway, her pale blue eyes taking in the size of it all. How fitting that she'd spill tears when it started to rain again--she could hear it pattering on the roof. An odd staccato matching the tick-tock cadence of the grandfather clock right behind her.

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice created a chord in the quiet. "What's the matter?"

She spun and faced him. "Nothing's the matter. That's just it. I-I've never been in such a nice place in my life. The house I lived in was the size of the living room alone. Maybe even smaller."

Optimus came up behind her, rested his hands on her growing belly and melted her with his voice, "Then don't you think it's time you enjoyed a little luxury?"

The heat in her throat grew. She bit her bottom lip and felt him move one hand up to her heart. Good thing he did; it might have escaped her chest otherwise.

"I want what is best for you and our daughter. This cabin was my trump card in the event of a situation like this. Megatron will do anything to get his hands on the knowledge of the Primes." He said, and if there was any doubt he'd done this to impress her, it vanished in the face of those words. She forgave his keeping the whole thing a secret. "I suppose this eliminates the problem of house hunting, doesn't it?"

"Mm..." Mikaela leaned back against Optimus' chest and reveled in the warmth of his metal body. His touch was the same as the cars and trucks and motorcycles she'd repaired in her lifetime. She felt more at home surrounded by metal. Maybe home was his arms. "Who's the white Kenworth truck?"

Optimus' eyelids clicked. She felt him smile against her ear. "Come on and meet him yourself. He's near the south balcony." Then his hologram playfully disappeared!

Mikaela laughed on the way to the back door in the bathroom. The eves of the cabin kept the rain off, but it was still chilly. She spotted the Kenworth right below her, parked so close its tires almost touched the downstairs deck.

Optimus appeared from the opposite side of the cabin. Rain pattered on his armor, making him sparkle. The balcony placed Mikaela exactly at eye level with him. They realized this at the same time, and smiled at each other.

Suddenly, the white Kenworth truck broke open and changed shape. Gears clicked and servos whirred until a robot very much like Optimus stood before her. There were only a few minor differences--like twin antennae instead of ear finials, stockier limbs and, in place of a face mask, a blue visor reminiscent of the Gargoyle sunglasses Arnold Schwarzenegger wore in the  _Terminator_  movies. The visor retracted to reveal friendly blue optics. He lacked the "soul patch" panel on his chin and his rectangular nose did not have any grooves in it. Glyphs decorated one of his eyelids, the sides of his nose and the rim of his helm. He probably had more that she couldn't see in the dark. She noticed his mouth was very thin, little more than pieces of overlapping silver trim shaped vaguely like human lips.

"It's nice to meet the one Optimus speaks so highly of," said the Autobot. His voice was as smooth as his manner and he had a slight southern drawl, probably a result of what he picked up off the internet. "You can call me Ultra Magnus. Optimus and I are good friends. Uh..." he blinked and looked a little sheepish, "...I'm sorry about the K-mart parking lot. Somebody interfered with my navigation systems."

"Don't worry about it, nobody got hurt. It's nice to meet you, Ultra Magnus." Mikaela looked between him and Optimus. The difference in their heights was so tiny--Ultra Magnus was only a few inches shorter. "Uh...are you two related?"

Optimus and Ultra Magnus both laughed quietly.

"We came from a similar mold, so when we scan a vehicle our parts distribute in a similar manner. Beyond that we aren't related at all." Ultra Magnus slapped Optimus' shoulder, "Besides, I'm not a Prime. I'm just a soldier who likes to follow orders."

"To the letter," Optimus chuckled, though even then he kept it restrained. "Which reminds me, is the perimeter set up?"

"Yes, sir." Ultra Magnus gave a quick salute. "A Decepticon can't twitch past it without us knowing." He glanced up at the sky, frowning. "This weather phenomenon will take a lot of getting used to."

"You guys won't be too cold out here, will you?" Mikaela interjected.

"Only extreme cold disables us." Optimus answered. "Winter conditions here won't cause us harm. And it will snow."

"Okay. Cool." Mikaela covered a yawn. "I should go eat something and get to bed. I'm beat."

"I should probably get some recharge," said Optimus. "We will rotate shifts to monitor the perimeter we've set up. Honk your air horn if you pick anything up."

"Right."

Ultra Magnus ducked and transformed back into an ordinary-looking Kenworth semi. He backed up until he was parked right alongside the road leading up to the cabin. Optimus made an 'okay' gesture with his fingers once the other Autobot got into position. Ironhide sat on the north edge of the property and Mikaela figured Ratchet guarded the east.

Optimus came right up to the balcony where Mikaela stood. No matter his size, his optics were always dynamic and gentle when they fixed upon her. "Have pleasant dreams, Mikaela."

Mikaela leaned over the wooden railing and touched her lips to the corner of his mouth. "G'night, Optimus. Thanks a lot."

He just smiled while she went back inside.

.o

Mikaela and the Autobots spent the entire next day working out drills in the event of an emergency. Everyone agreed to blast their horns in alarm if the perimeter suffered a breech. Then they planned it so someone would drive right up to the cabin and Mikaela would just jump in for a clean getaway. An emergency bag of spare clothes, four bottles of water and a few cans of nonperishable food sat right next to the door where it could be snagged as she passed.

She just hoped that scenario never needed playing out.

The days started to melt into each other. Thanksgiving rolled around, and Mikaela celebrated it with a turkey sandwich while she and Optimus watched a  _Twilight Zone_  marathon.

Mikaela kept quiet about how much she missed her family. Complaining wouldn't help her situation, but she sympathized with poor Mr. Bemis on TV when his glasses broke and he lamented:

"That's not fair. That's not fair at all. There was--was all the time I needed."

"What a pity." Optimus made a face at the screen. "Escaping a horrible wife via an atomic explosion only to have his glasses break when he finally has time to read. Yet it's a situation with which I can somewhat sympathize."

"You, too?" Mikaela gobbled down the last of her turkey sandwich.

He used his metallic "toe" to flick the remote into his hand--a trick that drove Mikaela batty--and changed the channel to Fox News. Every so often they'd check the news stations for clues of Decepticon activity. Usually stories about 'weather balloon failures' or 'crashing satellites' hinted that movement was taking place. Luckily, stories like those were few and far between. He turned it back again and lowered the volume.

"Well... _Time Enough at Last_  isn't quite as disturbing as  _To Serve Man_."

That cracked Mikaela up. "The cookbook! Oh, God...that  _is_  a creepy episode. The one that used to scare me is the one where the little girl falls into an invisible one-dimensional portal behind her bed. Saw that when I was a kid, and I made my dad pull my bed away from the wall. Stayed that way till I was ten or eleven, too..."

"I believe that was  _Little Girl Lost_."

"Freaky, eh?"

"Not quite as disturbing as the prospect that robotic characters are seen either as evil or servants."

Mikaela paused with her mouth open to say more, but closed it while his words sank in. Of course--what kind of messages  _were_  being sent to him through these shows?

"I know," she said softly, "but this is kind of a world where man lords over machine. You know more than anybody the whole world isn't ready to know humanity isn't alone in the universe." She shifted on the couch to face him. "It took the military ages to convince the general public that the Fallen's worldwide TV appearance was the prank of a disgruntled broadcast worker."

"I do understand, Mikaela. I just find it mildly offensive is all." Optimus smiled at her. "The difference is, I know a single point of view doesn't necessarily represent an entire denomination."

Nodding, Mikaela looked out the huge windows at the multicolored forest. Sunset and fall colors mixed beautifully together.

They watched a few more  _Twilight Zone_  episodes together, then turned the TV off when no more sunlight touched the treetops.

Optimus helped Mikaela bring in wood from the pile outside and lit the fireplace. Then Mikaela retreated upstairs for a bathroom break and to change into a set of cherry red flannel pajamas. They were originally her mom's, but fit her now that her waistline was growing. The sight waiting for her when she returned almost took her breath away. Optimus looked  _stunning_  in firelight--he sat so still he became a sculpture from another world. The effect of orange flickers reflecting off his silver plating and turning the blue areas of his armor almost golden-brown made it impossible not to stare. She rejoined him on the couch in a half-trance, wondering if he was real or just a figment from her imagination.

His body collected the fire's warmth. She found out when he smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

It seemed like they sat in comfortable silence for hours. The world didn't exist beyond the semicircle of light offered by the crackling flames.

Mikaela scooted over and laid her head on Optimus' shoulder. He slipped his arm around her, turning his head so his mouth brushed against her ear. It was pleasant to feel his lip plates there without hearing those annoying, whooshing breathing sounds. He did "breathe" occasionally to regulate his CPU temperature, but even then it wasn't the same as a human. He'd suck air through the vent on the back of his head and 'exhale' via the spaces in his face plates. Usually, he'd explained, it was an involuntary action regulated by his computer systems, but on occasion he 'sighed' when content. Like now--Mikaela heard and felt a brief, warm puff of air that hardly ruffled her hair.

"Does Ironhide give you a hard time about us?" Mikaela whispered.

"He seems to view our situation the same way as Sam." Optimus answered against her ear. "I don't normally discuss my love life with my teammates. Bumblebee noticed right away and kept it to himself. Ironhide didn't know we were involved, but Ratchet suspected until the truth of Elita's parentage came out. And I am still...boggled..." His mouth tightened before he went on, "There are times where I feel as if I've come between you and--"

"Optimus!" Mikaela sat up to meet his eyes. "I barely knew Sam when we met. I liked him because we'd been through hell together. I still like him, and I miss him...and I feel guilty that I dumped him after everything else. The thing is...I'd feel even worse if I kept going back to him. Our guilty pleasures in music and meeting you guys are the only things Sam and I had in common. You and I...it's a lot more. So what if it's weird?"

"It's placing you in so much danger." He answered quietly. His tone was not argumentative at all. "You may never have a normal life. Elita definitely won't. And you know what my worst fear is. What if I'm disabled or killed? Who will protect her? Who will protect you?"

"You've already done a Jesus twice."

"A Jesu--oh." Optimus turned his head and laughed, but it was nervous laughter.

"Listen..." Mikaela rubbed her finger along the blue 'soul patch' on his chin. "We'll protect each other, okay? I'm not some damsel in distress. I'm not going to just sit somewhere if the Decepticons grab me. I'd try to find ways to get out."

"That doesn't surprise me in the least. Am I correct in assuming you're the reason Rumble left K-mart with an optic missing?"

"Mmhmm. Donny and I kicked his ass."

He chuckled, pulling her close and settling his lips right next to her ear again. "Do you recall the conversation we had about what we find exciting about each other?"

Mikaela's heart skipped a beat. "Yup."

"I'd like to add your strength to the list. Most humans I've seen would curl up and hope the end is quick. Fighting back takes courage..." Optimus' voice lowered into the register that transformed her innards into mush, "...and I  _like_  that about you, Mikaela."

"Mm," Mikaela giggled and traced his ear finials with her fingertips. "If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna have to throw you on the floor and do something unmentionable."

Optimus snickered in her ear, and went on, "I'd like to see you try."

"That's  _it!_ " She grabbed the shock absorbers serving as his biceps and  _yanked_ , and was surprised when Optimus came away with her. He landed on his back with a clatter that scratched the floor next to the throw rug. She crashed down on top of him, a hand cushioning her growing belly. It wasn't big enough to get in their way yet, but it wouldn't let her lay completely flat on top of him like she did the first time they found a way to make love.

"Quite impressive," Optimus rumbled up at her. His optics had that laser-like bead on her, indicating exactly the kind of mood he was in. He lifted his hands to the buttons on her pajama top, but paused while his eyes silently asked permission.

She licked her lips and nodded her head.

Optimus' optics darkened as his pupils dilated in response to more energy going towards his Spark. He worked slowly, his hot, stainless steel fingers touching her skin as he exposed it inch by tantalizing inch. Mikaela heard her own breathing deepen at the way he teased her--he did it so reverently. Even when he gently pushed her pajama top open, he wasn't after her breasts so much as her bare skin.

"What are you going to do when I'm fat and ugly?" she asked.

"Oh..." He smiled and winked, "...you, filled with the life I helped place in your body, can never be ugly to me."

Then he gave his engine a rev and she nearly climaxed right there. Her nether regions had gone from sore to deliciously sensitive.

"I have read..." Optimus gave another pulse that stole the air from her lungs, "that the second trimester sometimes makes women multi-orgasmic." He clasped her hands. "Do you feel up to testing this theory?"

Mikaela peered down at him. Her pajama top was open, her hair was a mess falling around her shoulders and her cheeks flushed bright red. She leaned over, nose to nose with him, and growled, "Bring it on."

That night, Mikaela had two loud, body-clenching orgasms before Optimus' face tensed up in overload. He carried her upstairs afterward, and they enjoyed another round on the bed. Mikaela wasn't sure what she did--she caressed something, or pressed against something--and Optimus became a quivering mass beneath her. She heard him  _snarl_  for the first time outside of battle. It was a primal sound, a cry of control being given up, and she found it exciting.

Afterward, they spooned together under the covers. Mikaela never slept better in her life.


	9. Chapter 9

Mikaela woke the next morning to find she rolled over in her sleep. Optimus had fallen into recharge and either forgot or didn't bother to shut off his hologram. His eyes were dark and closed, and his right hand was a comfortable presence on her hip. She smiled, leaning closer so she could kiss the Prime symbol on his brow.

Somehow, Mikaela realized the word  _Prime_  in his language translated into  _Protector_. On his planet, his name meant  _Beloved Protector_...

Almost immediately her ears began ringing with digital howling noise like a telephone from hell. Glyphs flew across her sight in rotating rows just beyond understanding. Visions of herself at ten years old flickered through her head. Her younger self was climbing on something metal, but the image disappeared into more symbols.

"Op...Op- _Optimus!_ " Mikaela jolted into a sitting position and shook his arm.

Optimus came online immediately and sat up. No groggy mumbling, just instantly awake. "Mikaela!"

"G-get me s-s-s-something t-t-to write on. Hurry!"

The Autobot leader practically launched himself at the dresser for the notebook and pencil sitting beside the TV. Mikaela's body felt frozen. Optimus set the notebook down in front of her, placed the pencil in her hand and guided it to the page.

"Focus," he said gently. His voice sounded so far away that she feared she'd never reach it again, but his hand on her knee reminded her of his presence. He wasn't going anywhere, and neither was she.

Mikaela's eyes watered as she pressed the pencil to the paper. It felt just like writing normally. Words vertically, numbers horizontally and coordinates in concentric circles. Only a few actual words jumped out at her--terms like  _energon, worlds_  and  _commandments_ of _freedom, justice, peace_. She heard herself turning pages. Optimus did not interfere except to guide her hand back to the paper on the occasions she wrote too close to the edge.

Six pages and a headache later, it stopped.

"There. It's over." Optimus stroked Mikaela's face, effectively calming her. He examined what she wrote for a few moments before he tore the pages out and burned them in the fireplace. Before she could ask, he spoke, "You wrote down the coordinates to inhabited worlds my ancestors left alone. A blacklist, you could say."

"Can any of them be pronounced in English?" Mikaela couldn't help but ask. She wanted to know the names of other worlds because it meant Earth wasn't alone.

"Let me see..." Optimus squinted and nodded. "Nebulos, Paradron, Lithone, Junkion and Quintessa are a few of the named worlds. Others are only designated by coded numbers and coordinates. Those planets haven't seen our kind since my ancestors set foot on their soil. Many of the worlds you wrote were touched by the Cube, and so are populated by mechanical life forms similar to myself. They are much further away than Cybertron, though. Even at my fastest speed it would take many human lifetimes to reach them. Otherwise..." He looked over at her, "I'd take you to see them. A mechanic like you would enjoy Junkion. Everyone there has something to repair."

"That does sound kinda fun." Mikaela managed a shaky smile. The trauma of the last few minutes bled out after two deep breaths. "But what was that one line I wrote on the last page? It didn't look like everything else."

Optimus dipped his head so the symbols on his ear finials caught the light. "The commandments of a Prime," he said, running his finger along the markings. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Justice is the right of all sentient beings who seek freedom. Peace is the right of all sentient beings who bring justice."

Then he straightened, a being made entirely of the sun's brilliance. Anybody could see how seriously he believed in those commandments.

"When I was just a young Prime, 'freedom, justice, peace' became my rallying cry. Whenever I transmit a message before a battle, I close it with those three words. And Jazz..." He sighed a bit, remembering the fallen soldier, "He took it so seriously he had those three words engraved below his right eye. It became a trend--everyone who is an Autobot has those words somewhere on their body."

Mikaela buttoned her pajama top and marveled again at how Optimus could turn into a sexual  _beast_  and return to normal again without any outward signs of what took place the night before.

"Maybe someday, I'll get them tattooed on me, too." She took his hand in both of hers and fidgeted with his thumb. "I always thought tats were kinda sexy."

"Hmm..." A hint of Optimus' sexy side slipped out, "Would you be terribly offended if I had our family sigil engraved on myself? Yours, mine and Elita's..."

"No, I wouldn't." Mikaela wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned against his side. "Where will you put it?"

He gestured vaguely to his chest, "On my Spark chamber. Ultra Magnus is a master engraver. He will do it for me."

Mikaela blinked at him. "Wait, what about the engraving that's already on your chamber?"

Optimus flashed an amused smile and opened his Spark chamber for her to see. "That engraving is at the top. The new one will be at the bottom."

It was there, barely visible in the glare of his Spark--a black etching of two intertwined symbols. Just looking at it made Mikaela's chest hurt because of the detail. They weren't just little scratches like the graffiti carved into school desktops...they were deep, sprawling and intricate.

The process wound up being quite an experience to watch.

Residing in such a remote location meant the Autobots could safely walk about in the forest in robot mode, and they often did. At noon, Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Mikaela ventured deeper into the forest where a good-sized tree had fallen between two smaller trees. Ultra Magnus gestured for Optimus to lie down and started removing tools from a compartment in his forearm. One looked just like the Turbo Engraver tool she used to etch and engrave things on the motorcycles she helped her dad fix. Next to it, he set down a little box of burs--the rotating tips used to do the actual engraving. Beside that was a metal plate sporting the basic idea of the mark Optimus wanted: His name inside of the symbol for Mikaela's with Elita's attached underneath like links in a chain.

Like family.

Optimus unhooked his outer chest plating and set the pieces aside, leaving his silver components and naked Spark chamber exposed to the sun's brilliance.

Mikaela sat off to the side where she had a clear view. Ultra Magnus kept talking to Optimus in Cybertronian. Optimus' replies were extremely serious. He looked a little jittery, his eyes flicking between the tools and Ultra Magnus' face.

It was in this lighting that Mikaela noticed Ultra Magnus had sigils all along the edges of his helm, circling his audio covers, on the plating around his wrists and on the sides of his nose. They were also on the backs of his hands and even on his feet. Mikaela wondered if the three on his left upper eyelid were the  _freedom, justice, peace_  glyphs every Autobot wore. The marks made Ultra Magnus resemble a tattoo artist who had a ton of his own to show his experience.

"Are you ready, Optimus?" asked Ultra Magnus.

The mechanisms in Optimus' throat bobbed like a nervous swallow. Something in his eyes hardened. He nodded and relaxed against the fallen tree. "Yes."

Ultra Magnus started the engraving tool with a buzzing hiss and lowered it into Optimus' open Spark chamber. It made horrible dentist's drill noises on contact.

Optimus once said this procedure was painful. Mikaela wasn't prepared for  _how_  painful it would be. She watched Optimus' face plating scrunch until his eyes forced themselves into a squint. His hands flew out to the sides, gripping the two standing trees next to him--one being the tree she was sitting in.

"Oh, my God..." Mikaela fought the urge to look away. Optimus was going through this pain for  _her_ , and she felt that closing her eyes would be disrespectful. She climbed down next to his head and leaned against his ear finial. "You're doing fine, Optimus."

"Perhaps--this will help me to--to better sympathize with your labor pains in the future." He said in a high, strained voice. "Dying in battle--hurt much--worse than this."

"That was one quick stab in the back!" Mikaela frowned. When Optimus shook his head, it gave her a feeling that he died far more violently that anyone was willing to discuss with her. Especially considering the condition of his body and the pain on his face when Sam brought him back to life.

Ultra Magnus backed off a moment. He used a swab to dab away beads of glowing purple fluid. Optimus flinched and picked up his head, examining the work so far. He settled down again after a moment. His eyelids snapped shut and his face plates were tense, expressing the discomfort Mikaela knew he'd never verbalize. How could he stay so calm and quiet?

"Are you okay?" Mikaela asked him.

Optimus' optics opened again to look at her. He smiled a little. "I'm fine. What about you?"

_Typical. You're in agony and you're asking ME how I'm doing_...

"I'm hanging in there."

"Here comes the worst part," said Ultra Magnus, who offered a look of sympathy. He'd changed the burr on his engraver to a finer point. The tip glowed dull red. That explained the swirled edges on the etching at the top of Optimus' chamber--the markings were literally melted into the metal! "Um, Mikaela...this may be difficult to watch."

"I'm staying right here." Mikaela said insistently. She saw Ultra Magnus scoot over and sit on Optimus' legs. "God, Optimus, why aren't you offline for this?"

"Because it is a pain meant to be felt." Optimus fixed her in his gentle eyes. They flickered each time he blinked. "Like childbirth."

"I will begin now." Ultra Magnus met Optimus' gaze for the go-ahead. Upon receiving a nod in response, he lowered the glowing tip and Mikaela's nose detected burning hot metal and coolant mixed into a scent she could only describe as ozone.

Optimus' upper lip plate pulled back in a mechanical grimace. Every servomechanism in his neck and shoulders locked together. He moved his legs, trying perhaps involuntarily to kick, but Ultra Magnus' weight pinned them down. His fingers left dents in the trees he was grasping. He finally started to moan when sparks spit off the engraving tool. It looked like torture, yet she couldn't help noticing he made the same faces and sounds during an overload.

_That_  unwelcome thought was quickly cast aside.

"You're doing fine." Mikaela whispered, leaning on and petting his forehead. She watched Ultra Magnus work the engraving tool and couldn't believe how close it got to Optimus' Spark. "Relax...you're doing fine. I love you."  _And you're insane_...

Optimus peered over at her when she said that. She saw his eyes smile despite the obvious agony pouring through every atom of his being. He was in pain and he still tried to comfort  _her_.

The whole process took half an hour, and after it was all done, Optimus just sat up as if nothing happened. He peered down at the new engraving that still glowed bright orange, and smiled over at Ultra Magnus. "It looks wonderful. Thank you, my friend."

"Bah! Don't thank me. Thank these steady hands." Ultra Magnus flashed a grin--his smile was more obvious than Optimus' since his mouth had more flexibility to curve--and returned the tool box to its proper compartment within his arm. "I better get back to my station."

Optimus gave a quick nod. Ultra Magnus went back the way they came. Even funnier, he made a sound similar to whistling, and whistled the  _Andy Griffith_  theme. Once he'd vanished into the trees, Optimus replaced his chest plates and climbed slowly to his feet.

"Geez, Optimus! Shouldn't you sit for a minute?"

He arched a brow, "The pain is tolerable. Engravings don't require rest afterward. The pain stops as soon as the engraving cools down. Only marks on the Spark chamber are that painful. The rest only sting."

"Oh." Mikaela shook her head. "Then at least sit for a minute so I can see what he did."

Amused, Optimus knelt and leaned over, letting her see. She had to shield her eyes from the glow of his Spark. The marking was lying on its side and huge, covering the entire bottom curve of the chamber and partly obscured by his Spark. Mikaela admire the engraving. It was many tiny lines 'braided' together and then melted inward to form deep indentations in the metal.

Mikaela's chest hurt  _again_  just looking at it.

"It will be black when it cools," said Optimus.

The softness in his eyes cinched around her heart. No more doubt existed in her mind. Their destines were intertwined like the lines of the engraving.

Optimus offered Mikaela his hand and carried her back to the cabin. Sunlight and shadow licked along his armor. Dead leaves crunched under his feet. He walked slowly, taking great care not to move his upper body too much. She could feel the heat of his new engraving.

"Thank you for staying with me. I know that was frightening." He said when they reached the front of the cabin. Ultra Magnus stood a ways off, watching, his body blocking the only entrance to the little road leading to the cabin's front door.

Mikaela patted his thumb when he set her down. "Stick with me when I'm in labor, and we can call it even. How's that?"

"Deal," he winked. "I'm afraid I will have to miss cooking your dinner tonight. It's my turn to refuel in town, and it's a two hour drive each way."

"Don't worry about it. Do what you need to. I'm probably going to go to bed early anyway. This one--" Mikaela pointed to her belly, "--kept me up with her aerobics last night."

He smiled at that, and leaned a little closer. "Elita, don't harass your mother. She needs rest."

Laughing, Mikaela gave his nose a shove that didn't move him at all, and watched him transform back into vehicle mode. He did it slowly, still obviously sore. Ultra Magnus sidestepped to let him pass. She heard Optimus' horn toot twice before the sound of his engine faded in the distance.

"So, you two are serious now..." Ultra Magnus spoke without turning around.

"Sorry?" Mikaela stopped with one foot on the front steps. She about-faced and joined him by the trees. Hopefully what he had to say was quick; her Braxton-Hicks were acting up and she wanted nothing more than to stuff herself with leftover lasagna and take a long nap stretched across the couch.

The afternoon sun gave Ultra Magnus' white armor a gold tinge when he knelt to regard her. His expression was relaxed and schooled, not angry at all.

"Optimus is  _happy_. I knew him before he split with Megatron, and when they parted ways his outlook on life became incredibly grim. I believe your word for it is depression. He never spoke of it, though I noticed it when he thought no one was looking. He buried himself in strategy and battle. All that has changed ever since you came into his life. The grimness is gone. He smiles more often--he  _laughs_  more often. If I say your name, his optics twinkle. He loves you as much as he did Megatron, and he is very excited about the child you carry." Ultra Magnus smiled and glanced at the road. "You've healed him, Mikaela. You brought back the old Optimus, and I've missed him. I suppose a thank you is in order."

His words sent heat shooting into Mikaela's cheeks. Suddenly, she felt guilty for her impatience. She rubbed the side of her face in a half-hearted attempt to conceal the blush. "Um...you're welcome..."

Ultra Magnus nodded and stood up, his body language indicating their conversation was over. Always to the point, nothing more. Mikaela turned on her heel and headed inside to make herself a late lunch.

.o

Days melted together again. Christmas season had officially begun, and the air carried a cold energy Mikaela found infectious. Christmas music took over most of the radio stations and lights started going up on houses in the city.

Once a week, one of the Autobots would take Mikaela to the nearest shopping strip where she bought her essentials. They never took the same path twice, so once in awhile she spent over three hours on roundabout routes between the cabin and shopping centers.

Sometimes her trips into town became interesting than the drive. On a day that Optimus took her, she emerged from the market to see a short, blue-eyed man with a mustache admiring the Peterbilt idling in the parking lot. He looked around sixty or so years old, and smiled kindly at Mikaela when she slipped by to load her groceries into the passenger side.

"Nice rig." He said. "Show truck?"

"Thanks, and ah--no. It's my boyfriend's. He just lets me drive now and then."

The man's kind eyes flicked to her stomach. He smiled. "Mind if I take a photo of that beauty? I have a friend down south who'd enjoy the sight."

Mikaela felt electricity jump through her pulse and glanced up at the idling truck. Optimus had secret signals for yes and no--dropping his engine RPM's meant no, and speeding them up was yes.

They sped up for a heartbeat.

"Sure, go ahead." Mikaela climbed in to Optimus' cab while the man took a quick shot with his camera phone and waved in thanks. She waved back. Then, smiling, the man walked off while dialing his phone.

"Hey, Frank! It's Peter. Take a gander at what I saw parked at Stater's!"

"That guy kinda reminded me of my dad," she remarked to Optimus.

Being away from family meant Mikaela felt lower and lower as the season wore on. She tried cheering herself up by breaking the routine and buying items other than food.

Ironhide was  _not_  happy the day she emerged with a baby car seat, a stroller and a stylish black diaper bag that could be carried like a backpack. On another shopping trip, she bought a seven foot tall fake tree, LED lights, two boxes of cheap ornaments and a box of silver icicle tinsel. The tree fit great in the corner opposite to the staircase and looked wonderful once she had it all lit up and decorated. Except...

"Optimus, help me get this topper on."

Up until then, Optimus spent the whole day bent over the kitchen table. He'd forbidden her from asking about or looking at what he was working on. The project disappeared when she called for his help.

The tree topper was a gold ball with fake red jewels at the bottom and a spike on top. It'd look great--

_If I can ever get this damn package open,_  Mikaela grunted in frustration at the resistant plastic repeatedly slipping off her fingernails. Optimus took it from her, snapped the backing right off and freed the metal topper. It rolled into his hands with a soft clank. He placed it atop the tree and stepped back to admire the result. When they shut off the lights so only the tree stayed lit, the effect of colored lights on Optimus' armor looked stunning.

"I don't fully understand this custom," he remarked, "but I like it."

Mikaela turned away. "Yeah, it's great." She sat down on the floor beside the tree.

"You miss your family."

"Tch, yeah." She glanced up at his frown. "I'm not upset with you...it's just I never had a nice Christmas before. Never had the money, never got to do the Santa thing. We'd just put up a tree and fake it when I was little. I used to put boxes under the tree and pretend they came from Santa." A wry smile twitched at her lips, "Pretty lame thing to be bitter about, isn't it?"

Optimus' eyes blinked slowly. "It's never wrong to want. Just don't let it consume you."

Mikaela rolled her tongue against the back of her front teeth, hating how bitter she felt about being so far from family during the holidays. Except she wasn't entirely removed from her whole family--she had one beginning right before her eyes. It was not a perfect one, but perfect families only existed in corny Lifetime movies anyway.

"If we're going to get snow, I should get chains for everybody's tires. Otherwise traction on the roads is going to be hell."

Optimus straightened, frowning. "I hadn't thought of that. The weather reports did say it might snow on Friday or Saturday."

"I know. First winter storm of the year. But I dunno where I'll get chains for you and Ultra Magnus. You're not average vehicles, you need specialty chains."

He just winked one optic, "I'll take care of it."

Sighing, Mikaela hugged her knees to her chest. Her belly made that harder to do than before, she realized. Every week it was just a tiny bit bigger and becoming obvious even through baggy turtlenecks. "We should start practicing for when I go into labor. I've been doing kegel exercises for a long time now, but I've only got a couple months before Elita says hello to the world."

Optimus' optics were pretty in the near darkness of the cabin. At least, up until he unintentionally spoiled the effect by turning on the lights. "I was wondering when you would suggest that. What is it you wish to practice?"

She stretched out her legs. "Everything. Breathing, positioning. Everything on that birthing naturally dot com website."

Everything paused for a few minutes while Mikaela dug out her laptop and Optimus acted like a wireless proxy server to hide her surfing trail from prying eyes. They combed through the website together--Optimus guiding Mikaela into different positions and Mikaela helping Optimus to understand the importance of breathing correctly.

Two hours later...

"...and the contraction ends. Breathe in and out."

Mikaela exhaled heavily while Optimus rubbed the base of her spine. "Be ready for me to say I hate that when the real thing happens."

"I will do all that I can to keep you focused." He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Ratchet recently informed me that Elita is developing normally."

"When did he--"

"On the third, when you bought the stroller and seat. He performed a complete scan."

She sniffed in dismay, "Next time, I'd like to  _know_  when he's doing that. I really liked it when he pulled up that picture of her when I was six weeks along."

Optimus laid a calming hand on her growing belly. "I will discuss the matter with him. Oh..." He looked down, "Elita is kicking hard tonight."

"I know. I think she's been having an argument with my spine for the past ten minutes. Must be the Braxton-Hicks. They're getting pretty common now. My mom had a lot too, so I guess it's genetic."

"Those are normal, correct?"

Mikaela nodded. "Normal and really ann--OW!" she giggled, "I think she punched my bladder!"

Optimus laughed and bent over, bringing his mouth next to the side of Mikaela's belly. "Elita, stop abusing your mother."

"Oh, like that's gonna make her stop." Mikaela pulled her shirt up and watched little lumps move under her skin when Elita's feet kicked. Those weak popcorn, bubbles and goldfish swishes she used to feel were a thing of the past, replaced by miniature battering rams that, if they hit the right spots, actually  _hurt_.

Reaching up, Optimus used his index finger to poke just below Mikaela's belly button. Nothing happened. He tried again, a little higher. She moved his finger down towards her left hip. Poking there resulted in a startled jolt and a flurry of kicks they could both see through her skin.

"Ow!" She broke out laughing and doubled over, an instinctive response to the sudden impact. "Oh man. She's kicking my ass!"

Optimus decided to run his hand up and down the left side of her stomach, which elicited more squirms. "This is rather fascinating."

"Yeah--" Mikaela winced when two hard blows landed next to Optimus' fingertips. "--and I'm sure my ovaries enjoy being stomped."

He chuckled, hugging her against him before helping her up. She went to sleep that night with his hand resting against her belly.

.o

It was the middle of the month when Optimus inquired about the pool table in the loft. Mikaela taught him how to play pool and they spent hours competing...but only after Optimus agreed to turn off his targeting sensors.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I don't have any, and I like to play fair," Mikaela teased.

"Very well." Optimus leaned over the table, balancing the cue stick gracefully while he lined himself up. He never moved the cue stick back and forth, he just set his bridge hand down, positioned the stick and nodded to the corner pocket before calling his shot. "Eight ball, corner pocket."

CRACK.

Mikaela watched in dismay as the eight ball clattered into the corner pocket right in front of her, ending the game. She helped him gather up and rack the balls for another round. It was hard to stay annoyed while watching Optimus play. She got to marvel at the way light played off his hands and body and how his face tightened in concentration. If he had a tongue, it'd be poking out the corner of his mouth. Doing things like this took his mind off the mess they were in. She knew more than anything that he stressed a lot over the possibility of a surprise attack.

She also knew he was trying hard to ease her depression over spending the holidays away from her family. Phone calls were still too dangerous, and neither her mom or dad had answered the email she sent last week.

_I just hope my dad isn't on the run from the law again_...

Mikaela backed up a bit too far while chalking the tip of her cue stick. Her elbow bumped into Optimus' chest.

"Hey! Stop touching my butt cap!" she playfully complained.

"Stop fondling my balls," Optimus countered teasingly.

"I'm going to break your balls in a minute." Mikaela leaned over the table. She stroked as if to go through the cue ball and, after her follow-through, watched the multicolored spheres spread out over the table. The solid two ball rattled into a corner pocket. "Solids are mine this time."

"You're on."

Days continued to pass. Leaves fell until the thick trees became lifeless brown squiggles covering the landscape. Mikaela couldn't count how many times she walked outside to find the Autobots covered in dead leaves, slush or frost. The snow wasn't thick enough yet to fully coat the ground--it just left everything wet and miserable.

There was also the time Mikaela stepped outdoors to find Ironhide's windshield splattered with bird poop. He got washed and made a point to never park near the eaves of the cabin again. Keeping everything clean proved a workout--better than jogging or aerobics--but Mikaela's growing uterus was slowly becoming an obstacle. Not to mention it made her back and hips ache after two or three hours on her feet.

Optimus never grew boring as company. He and Mikaela could spend hours conversing and debating...or they sat quietly together and watched the clouds go by.

He was with her when the first real, blanketing snow fell over the bare skeleton of the forest.

"Bumblebee informed me that he and Sam are driving back for Christmas break."

Mikaela's pulse missed a beat. She looked over, noticing Optimus' gaze straying to the vast windows. "I sense a 'but' in that."

"Mmhmm. Bumblebee is bringing Sam up here."

"I thought we weren't planning on doing that." She frowned.

"He...was very insistent on talking to you in person." Optimus scratched at his ear finials. His expression remained composed and stoic.  _Too_  composed and stoic. "Bumblebee is taking measures to ensure he doesn't alert the Decepticons to his movements."

Unsaid words reached out to Mikaela. They were in the glints of light bouncing off his eyelids.

"He met somebody, didn't he?"

When Optimus made no gesture to confirm or deny her statement, she felt the truth wrap around her spine like a strangling cord. She wasn't even sure why it hurt. Was she really that easy to get over? Did he feel no guilt or shame about what happened between them?

"Why's he even bothering to come here then?"

"He still cares enough to worry about your safety, Mikaela." Optimus replied calmly.

"I get that. I appreciate that. But...well, I don't know how you guys deal with breaking up and all that on Cybertron. Imagine Megatron not even giving the end of your relationship six months before he goes off dating somebody else. Kinda makes you wonder."

Was it her imagination, or did that make Optimus flinch?

"Sam also knows what it is like to be a human unwittingly caught within a war many millennia old."

Usually, Mikaela could blame irrational anger over silly things on her pregnancy hormones. But here, now, she knew the heat swelling in her innards was genuine indignation. Optimus understood so  _much_ , but there were areas of human behavior he didn't quite grasp yet. That wasn't his fault, but Mikaela felt too angry to care.

"You don't get it." She crossed her arms.

He turned his head sharply to look at her. "Then inform me."

"God, Optimus..." Mikaela reached through her hair and grabbed the back of her scalp, massaging it before letting her arm fall back at her side. "Look at me. I'm pregnant, my feet are starting to swell, I'm getting fatter by the day and my skin looks horrid. A college campus is full of perfect, not-pregnant,  _fertile_  girls. Sam is a healthy specimen of a frat boy.  _YOU_  do the math!"

"I'm well aware of how your body is changing." Optimus lowered the  _Esquire_  magazine he'd been reading. It was two months old and had Matt Damon on the cover. A pair of half moon glasses would have fit the moment when Optimus tilted his head slightly to regard her. "Life is a beautiful thing."

The argument on Mikaela's tongue sounded stupid even to her, but she blurted it out anyway. "I've never looked gross before. Not the serious kind of gross you can't just fix with hairspray and makeup. This is a planet where looks  _matter_ , Optimus. People say they don't, but everybody is judged by looks first and everything else second. Just look at advertising. Look at the media. It's all about beauty and perfection! And now that I'm not the hot girl Sam knew in school, I'm yesterday's news! Now do you see why I'm upset?"

Optimus flicked the magazine shut and slapped it down on the couch, but other than that his expression and mannerisms didn't express the faintest hint of ire. "I think you're worrying too much. Though I do wonder why you're so concerned about your appearance when you know outward appearances have little effect on my opinion of a person."

Mikaela pressed her palm against her forehead and sighed. "You're not everybody else." She grumbled. "Let me know if you find my confidence floating facedown in a pool somewhere."

"Mikaela--"

"How would  _you_  feel if you saw somebody you just broke up with dating somebody else without even a hint of grief over what they just lost?"

"Megatron did it to me." Optimus rose and approached her. "Feeling bitter does not change or improve the situation."

"Then excuse me for having emotions I can't turn off like you can."

She moved to go up the stairs, but he grabbed her arm and turned her back around. It was done strongly enough to stop her in her tracks without causing any pain.

"Contrary to what movies and television make you believe about mechanical beings, emotions are not something I can turn off. They are as much a part of me as they are of you." He held her in place when she tried again to leave the room. She could hear the hurt in his voice when he went on. "And I understand all too well the way you feel." His grip loosened and he rubbed her upper arms. "The best you can do is face it and work through it. A very lovely young woman in a red dress reminded me of that about two years ago."

Mikaela's frustration deflated in the face of his calm words. She hung her head. "Sorry...that was a really stupid thing for me to say. I guess when you live for millions and millions of years, you kinda get better at handling emotions."

"One would think." Optimus remarked. "Feel like a sandwich?"

Diversion. He was excellent at it.

"Sure." Mikaela filed the incident into the back of her mind for later. "Any beef left?"

The argument died there, and its remains slipped between the wood panels at the base of the staircase.

After Mikaela ate lunch, she and Optimus ventured into the basement for no reason beyond a change of scenery. It could be reached through a trap door behind the washer in the laundry room. A pull cord lit the staircase with a single, bare light bulb. The only illumination in the basement came from a ceiling fan fixture. Optimus couldn't walk his hologram down there, so he "beamed" himself downstairs via the tiny storm window in the far corner.

The basement turned out to be a treasure trove of interesting items. Whoever lived here last must have been a cowboy or cowgirl--Mikaela found coils of rope and a black felt Stetson in a cedar chest tucked under the staircase. It had a red ribbon around the crown and a silver buckle on the right, which meant whoever wore the hat was left-handed.

"Oh, interesting. I just read about these." Optimus picked up the cowboy hat by the crown and set it on his head. It fit perfectly over his ear finials. He looked at her and tilted it forward just slightly. "Go ahead. Make my day."

He looked charming and a bit silly--a robot cowboy.

"Sexy," Mikaela snickered at his shockingly  _good_  impression of a western. She uncovered a tan Stetson that appeared to have seen better days. Its brim had holes and the crown was too squashed to make the hat wearable.

"The people before us were certainly interesting," Optimus said as he walked over towards something covered in a dusty white sheet. The center formed a lump and the rest of the sheet spread out in a hexagonal pattern. Optimus poked the edge with his foot, and it sank in slightly like a workout mat. He adjusted his new hat. "Hm. Should we explore this, or leave it alone?"

"Whoever had it before didn't take it, so...let's check it out." Mikaela replied. She grabbed one edge, Optimus grabbed the other, and they pulled at the same time.

The sheet whispered aside, revealing a stark black mechanical bull with a leather saddle and horns on one end to denote its "head." The hexagon shape was the safety mat. Mikaela noticed the controls near the wall.

Optimus looked over at Mikaela. Mischief twinkled in his eyes. "Let's see if it works."

Then he smiled and climbed onto the saddle. His legs were so long that his feet rested flat on the floor. He bent his legs a little and gripped the rope around the bull's "neck."

_Optimus Prime straddling a mechanical bull with a black cowboy hat on his head_. Mikaela mused, wishing she still had her camera phone. She barely kept a straight face just looking at him.

"Start it up." He said. "Let's see how long I last."

_I've gotta see this_. Mikaela thought. Sliding behind the control box, she squinted in the low light and turned on the power. Optimus made a startled noise when the mechanical bull whirred, rose and started to spin around. She laughed at his widened eyes and open mouth.

"That's just level one."

"Please, do you think this thing will throw me off so easily?" Optimus adjusted his grip on the rope. The position of the rope made it resemble something else, and Mikaela had to look at his face or risk breaking out into laughter.

"No," she eyed the controls again, "but it'll make you dizzy."

So far, he seemed pretty calm--even when the bull finally bucked slowly beneath him.

"How fast does it go?"

"Uhhh..." Mikaela checked, "Level nine."

"Turn it up to that. If I could stay on top of Demolishor in Shanghai, I know I can handle this."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Mmhmm."

"Okay." Mikaela turned it up to nine.

Optimus moved with the sudden change in motion, rocking forward and back as the mechanical bull jerked his body around. A good minute passed before he lifted the cowboy hat off his head and held it up in the air by its brim. He was laughing, having genuine  _fun_.

Suddenly, the mechanical bull spun to the left and tilted violently forward, spilling Optimus headfirst onto the mat. Unhurt, he got up with an amused chuckle.

"I haven't had that much fun in a long while," he said. "You should try it."

"Not while I'm pregnant." Mikaela grinned, pulling the hat down over his eyes.

For a solid week, the mechanical bull became the Autobot team's favorite toy. Ultra Magnus tested his hologram by taking a ride. He couldn't stay on it to save his life, but Ironhide lasted longer than Optimus or Ratchet combined.

Then one day, Ratchet climbed on and the bull broke, bringing their games to an end.

Optimus kept the cowboy hat.


	10. Chapter 10

"...been detecting transmissions from above the atmosphere." Ultra Magnus' smooth voice woke Mikaela from a light sleep. He shifted towards her bedroom window and went on, "It was Soundwave. He scrambled my navigation when I landed. Having a vehicle available to a mech my size was fool's luck."

Optimus walked with him, his voice right behind Mikaela's head. "Have you picked up any relevant chatter since oh two hundred?"

She opened her eyes. It wasn't quite four o'clock in the morning--so still dark out and the curtains were closed. The wall creaked when Ultra Magnus leaned slightly against it.

"Not as of now, no. Bumblebee hasn't been detected either, but his progress here is slowed by the boy's repeated need for fuel and voiding waste."

Optimus said, "Keep monitoring them. Only communicate on the encrypted gamma channel."

"Right. E.T.A. is approximately ten hours. Possibly more if he remains at home for the first night."

Mikaela yawned and staggered into the bathroom to empty her bladder. Since she didn't bother turning on the light, she could see clearly out the sliding glass door. Ultra Magnus emerged from beside the cabin and touched the sides of his head with his fingertips. The tips of his antennae extended another foot and fanned out into glistening dishes that turned every which-way.

"Prime," Ratchet's voice was at the bedroom window by the time Mikaela settled back down in bed again. "I need to take Ironhide offline temporarily for surgery. A gear in his leg is about to fail and needs immediate replacement."

"Take care of it." Optimus answered. He didn't sigh or sound dismayed, but the way he clipped the words indicated he wasn't too pleased at having a man down right now. "How long until he's functional?"

"Three hours if there aren't any complications." Ratchet's footsteps thumped away from the cabin.

Mikaela finished her business and return to bed. The cold air seeped into her skin and she shivered, pulling the warm comforter and sheets up to her neck while she curled up on her side. She was almost asleep again when Elita decided four o'clock in the morning was the most perfect time in the world to start kicking.

_This is practice for all the nights she'll wake me up to eat or change her diaper. Hm...eating_...

Elita showed no signs of letting up. Mikaela's ribs already felt a little sore from the beatings.

Sighing, Mikaela shrugged into a plush white bathrobe she found in the linen closet and pulled on her old Wolverine slipper socks. She padded slowly downstairs. The kitchen lights had a dial that let her control the brightness, so she turned them on dim and promptly dug in the refrigerator for the piece of leftover meatloaf she didn't finish at dinner time. Saving leftovers wasn't really  _necessary_  now--Mikaela just did by habit as a throwback from her days when leftover dinner might have been tomorrow morning's breakfast.

Mikaela cut a slice of meatloaf and transferred it to a plate that she covered in plastic wrap. Into the microwave it went, and she proceeded to down half a carton of orange juice while waiting for the meatloaf to warm up. The cucumber sitting in the produce drawer looked good. She cut a few slices of that to nibble on while waiting for the meatloaf.

_I remember when I'd be puking if I even thought about eating this stuff...wow, time flies. At least I'm mostly over morning sickness. I don't miss it at all_.

Minutes later, Mikaela took the orange juice carton and used an oven mitt to carry the hot meatloaf plate into the living room. She sat on the floor by the huge south facing windows.

The crystal clear winter horizon was a black veil doused in tiny diamonds. Optimus appeared as a moving spire against the backdrop of the sky. He gracefully eased to sit next to the house, one knee pulled against his chest and the other straight out in front of him--the same way he sat by the doors of the warehouse. His head hung chin to chest; he didn't seem to care that his tiny little(in proportion to him, anyway) butt just flattened a snowdrift. Frost clung to the edges of the windows on his chest armor. Actually, a very light coating of frost covered his whole body, so he glistened.

Optimus hugged his other knee to his chest, folded his arms on top of them and used them to cradle his head. He'd be looking right at Mikaela if the windows weren't mirrored on the outside. His bottom lip plate pouted outwards. Clearly she'd slept through the most important parts of whatever conversation he had with Ultra Magnus earlier.

Mikaela swallowed the last bite of the rich meatloaf and finished off the orange juice. The sky was cloudy the next time she looked up.

Optimus seemed to gaze deep at his own reflection as if asking himself a question he couldn't answer. What went through his mind at such an hour? Doubts? Fears? Choices? Mikaela saw Optimus' optics flicker. Then his eyelids fluttered--keeping them open obviously took more effort than one so burdened could muster. They finally closed after a five minute battle, and stayed that way.

A white puff drifted from the sky. Another followed. Then more...the snow fell gently while Optimus, unaware of it, recharged in silence.

.o

Relentless snow blustered around the window as Mikaela held up outfit after outfit and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Her mind reeled, torn between wearing something baggy that hid her belly or pulling on something tight to show it off.

She finally decided on her favorite "skinny" maternity jeans that brought out the color in her eyes, a tight white turtleneck and, for extra warmth, a red and white plaid flannel shirt left unbuttoned. After a quick shower, she dressed and blow-dried her dripping hair. Even with the heater on, wet hair made her feel icy cold. Another twenty minutes were spent deciding what to do with her hair. Being pregnant made it grow thicker, shinier and glossier than it had ever been. She left it down, but gave the ends a little wave via her curling iron before using a light foundation to cover up the hormone-inflicted zits and blotches on her face. A little mascara, some cocoa-colored eyeliner, a pinch of blush and a few passes of coral pink lip-gloss later, she was done.

_This is going to be awkward no matter what we do or say,_  Mikaela bit her lip.

The wall thumped. She hurried to the bedroom window. Optimus nodded his head towards the front of the cabin.

Sam had arrived.

Mikaela waved in thanks and pulled in a deep breath to calm the nervous butterflies in her stomach.  _God, just don't let us end up fighting_...

She took the stairs carefully because of her changing center of gravity. The front door had an oval shaped frosted glass window, and through it she could see a faint human outline shifting to and fro. This couldn't be any easier for him either.

Sam knocked.

Mikaela jumped with the sudden electricity injected into her pulse. She breathed again and opened the door with a shaky hand, wishing for all the world to be somewhere else. A wall of icy air greeted her. "Hey, Sam."

"Hi, Mikaela." Sam flashed a shy little grin. He appeared just as uncomfortable as she felt--his smile seemed slightly too tight to be fully natural.

Mikaela sidestepped and gestured for him to enter, closing the door once he did. Sam was loaded underneath a heavy winter jacket, snow boots and two plastic Target bags that rustled upon being set down. Mikaela helped him get the jacket and boots off. He wore just a plain gray sweatshirt under a black Green Day T-shirt and faded jeans with scuffed knees. His clothes looked rumpled as if he'd slept in them. She opened the closet right next to the front door and hung the jacket on a hook inside the door, then unrolled a towel underneath to set the boots on so the melting snow wouldn't form puddles all over the wooden floor.

Sam looked exhausted--there were circles under his eyes and his chin was prickly when he reached over to embrace her. So much time around Optimus made Sam's touch feel soft and foreign.

"How's it going?" he asked, pulling back to glance down at her belly.

"Pretty good, considering." Mikaela said. She suddenly felt like closing the flannel shirt around her changing body. "It's pretty weird being surrounded by Autobots twenty-four-seven...but I'm dealing. How's college?"

"Fine." Sam reached back for the bags he brought in. One had two wrapped gifts. The other had a canned honey-baked ham and a large stainless steel thermos. Sam set the presents down under the tree. Reaching for the second bag, he went on, "Figured I'd bring some Christmas cheer. Here's the ham...and some of my mom's homemade hot chocolate."

His smile still seemed a little forced. Not in the sense of his not wanting to be there, but the unsaid truth gleamed in his hazel eyes.

Mikaela gazed at him while he explained his mother's secret ingredient being skim milk and a marshmallow. She tried to search for what first attracted her to him in the first place, and something in the back of her heart ached when she realized she couldn't find it anymore. They'd grown apart like a tree trunk split down the middle by lightning. Between them stood a wound neither could mend, and they both knew it.

"I noticed Ironhide on the ground out there. Is he okay?"

"Oh." Mikaela paused while setting the thermos on the kitchen counter. "Just a leg problem. Ratchet ordered him to rest for a few more hours."

"That's cool." Sam said. They moved into the living room and plopped down on the couch. The muted TV played a commercial for baby formula. Sam glanced at it, cleared his throat and hung his head, examining a smudge on heel of his sock.

Shadows briefly blotted out the light coming through the windows. Ultra Magnus had appeared to greet Bumblebee. Optimus emerged from further off, his hands cupping firewood that he neatly piled up on the deck to dry.

Sam's eyes hardened at the sight of the Autobot leader. It passed in a second, but the look lasted long enough to be obvious.

Unaware, Optimus straightened and joined Bumblebee and Ultra Magnus. Their discussion looked pretty serious.

Mikaela saw Sam fidget with a thread on the hem of his T-shirt.

"So, who's the white bot?"

"That's Ultra Magnus, and no, he and Optimus aren't related."

"Ah."

_Dammit,_  Mikaela cursed mentally,  _It's more awkward than I thought it'd be!_

Her mind raced for something to say that'd fill in the silence. She settled on: "Um...let's drink some of that hot chocolate while it's still hot."

"Huh? Oh! Sure, why not?" Sam chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mikaela realized he wasn't getting up, so she rolled her eyes and did it herself. Mugs were kept in the cupboard above the sink. She got two, poured the still-warm hot chocolate and brought him a mug. Then she sat down again and sipped from hers.

At least the hot chocolate tasted good. Very rich and creamy without the grit of pre-made mixes. "Mm, what's your mom's trick again?"

"She puts a marshmallow in the blender. Just one, but it's one of those big ones you put on s'mores. That's why it's kind of thick. She says otherwise the hot chocolate is just too watery and gross."

Mikaela caught herself wishing Optimus could taste it. She shut it out to let the heat of the warm drink pool in her stomach. "Aren't your parents mad that you're driving twelve hours total just to come see me?"

"I um..." He scratched at his stubble, "...yeah." Then he stared into his mug, which he held tightly enough to turn his fingernails pale.  _Here it comes_. Mikaela thought when he looked up at her again. "I met somebody on campus."

"Really?" Mikaela pretended to be more surprised than she felt. Would this have happened if she weren't pregnant right now? She sat back on the couch, wiped off the bottom of her mug and rested it lightly against her belly. The brown fluid inside rippled as Elita kicked. "Tell me about her."

Sam blinked. He'd been put on the spot and realized it a second too late. "Uhh...heh, she looks kinda like you, 'xcept her eyes are brown and her hair's curly and she's--" he cleared his throat-- "kinda thin. She models for catalogues and stuff to pay for college."

"Does she have a name?" Mikaela kept her tone neutral so it wouldn't sound like a grilling. Still, a model...probably one of those dumb, prissy women who threw a fit if they broke a nail.

"Charlotte. But she goes by Charley most of the time." Sam gulped from his hot chocolate mug. "She knows as much about cars as I do."

_Ha! Guess I was too smart for you, Sam_. Mikaela rubbed her belly in a subtle attempt to have Sam at least ask about it. How strange that a pregnant stomach didn't feel like a flabby one. It was more like the surface of a hard-boiled egg with the yolk removed. Firm, yet able to be compressed if something applied enough force

Her ministrations worked.

"How far along are you now?"

"Five and a half months." Mikaela smiled inwardly--at least he  _could_  acknowledge the elephant in the room. "Finally past the puking...now I just have a lot of weird food cravings. She's kicking me right now. Want to feel it?"

Sam scooted away an inch. "Uh...thanks...but my hands are all grubby from digging Bumblebee out of a snow bank. Don't wanna mess up your shirt."

_Or you just don't want to touch me any more than you have to_. Mikaela sighed inwardly. She should have seen this coming. How could a baby--one only she knew didn't really belong to him--cause such a rift between them? Why did they become strangers in the span of a few months?

"The presents!" Sam jumped up and grabbed them from under the tree. Clearly he wanted an excuse to stall their conversation. He seized the parcels and jogged back to the couch. "Here."

One was a small, slightly heavy rectangular box wrapped in blue paper decorated by glittery snowflakes and curly white ribbon. The other was larger rectangle exactly the size and shape for clothes. Red and white striped paper with a silver bow had been used to wrap this one.

Mikaela unwrapped the bigger present first. It was a pretty blue and white plaid flannel nightgown that buttoned up the front. "Oh! Neat!" She tried to sound enthused, but in reality wasn't sure it'd even fit her changing body. "I won't be massive yet, so this'll probably feel great when it's nastily cold out."

Sam smiled and handed her the smaller box. She worked the paper ribbon off and carefully used her thumbnail to tear into the paper.

It was a little white music box with a twirling ballerina under the lid. The tune of  _Memory_  from  _Cats_  played when she wound the key.

The bitterness she felt towards Sam lessened a half-degree. He had no money, but he spared some for a nightgown and a cheap music box. A man who could spare something for a child couldn't be a total clod, right?

"It's really cute, Sam. Thanks." Mikaela reached over to give him a one-armed hug. She felt like a jerk for not getting him anything, and hoped he'd just assume the situation didn't allow her time to go out shopping. "How about I cook up that ham and we have a feast?"

"Sure!"

"Should I make it with green eggs?"

He eyed her and snickered. "Shut up."

Mikaela grinned and turned the dial on the oven to start pre-heating it. She was just about to dig the ham out of the can when Optimus' bot-holo knocked gently on the back door, which was right between the stove and the stainless steel fridge. The sudden sound startled her. She opened the door to let him in, "Hey, why didn't you just pop up inside?"

"I didn't want to startle Sam." Optimus said. The acoustics in the kitchen made his deep voice boom even when he spoke in a normal conversational tone. "I happened to overhear you mention the food, and I thought I would prepare it so you can vis--"

"You  _cook?_ " Sam was in the doorway, looking so incredulous it made Mikaela bite back a rude snicker.

"Why is that so strange? I learned to prepare food when the early stages of Mikaela's pregnancy made doing so too tiring for her." Optimus already had the ham in his hands, along with an oven bag, a pan and a number of ingredients necessary for flavor.

The look Sam gave Optimus wasn't the kindest one. Either Optimus didn't notice or proved excellent at pretending not to. Not once did he pause while gathering up everything he'd need.

"The weight of this meat will require five hours in the oven."

"And how does a robot who can't smell or taste know when food is ready?" Sam hedged. His eyes were heating up like a volcano about to erupt. Mikaela never knew him to be so  _jealous_.

Optimus turned to him and smiled, though his optics had a bit of shock hidden in their glow. "I have chemical receptors that inform me when something I'm preparing has changed properties--or as you put it--is 'done.'"

"That's so--"

"I think I'm gonna go freshen up." Mikaela interrupted, walking between them and towards the stairs. It was going to get ugly no matter what she did or said, but she didn't want to get in the crossfire and turn it into a screaming match. She hurried up to the loft with the pool table and peered over the railing. There, she had a clear view of their reflections in the black oven door.

Not a moment too soon.

Sam washed his hands in the kitchen sink, dried them and stuffed them into his jeans pockets. "I don't get it, Optimus. I just don't. I went to school with her most of my life, and you pop up and...I don't get it! What do you have that I don't?"

Most guys Mikaela knew would explode at this point. Optimus just stood there, calm as ever, and answered smoothly, "I do not see how asking such a question is relevant to the answers you want."

"What do you see in  _her?_ "

A long pause. The slosh of a knife pre-slicing the ham. Rattling from the oven bag. The baking pan touching the countertop with a soft clank.

"I see someone who has been through the same struggles I've gone through." Optimus placed the ham in the oven without bothering to set the timer. "Someone who has become stronger for it. Her life has not been an easy or a kind one. You come from a vastly different upbringing."

"So?"

"Sam, there are some situations you simply cannot understand unless you have experienced them yourself." Optimus kept himself maddeningly calm. "That does not mean your own problems have less value than hers...they are simply issues of a different caliber."

"I kinda guessed that by her old house."

"Yes, but have you ever sat down and listened to her, Sam? Have you ever just let her talk and  _not_  judge?" Optimus' voice remained level.

Mikaela watched Sam bite the tip of his own thumb and pace along the kitchen floor. No, he hadn't...Mikaela never felt comfortable telling him all the little details of her growing up almost homeless for much of her life. She'd warned him that she wasn't a 'good' girl...

"But--just--no offense, Optimus, but you're not even human! I don't get it! I just don't!"

"What I don't understand," Optimus leaned forward, and this time Mikaela recognized the slight edge creeping into his voice, "is why love on this planet is bound by so many unwritten stipulations. Frankly, most humans would probably call the relationship I had with Megatron a homosexual one simply because, according to your gender standards, we are both considered male."

"I-isn't it?"

"There are no genders on Cybertron."

"But Arcee..."

" _Your_  people placed the female gender role upon her. She simply didn't take offense to it, and chose to embrace it."

Sam shook his head. He crossed his arms, grumbling. "You can't kiss Mikaela--you don't even have a..." he gesticulated vaguely at his own crotch.

Optimus' expression went from dark to mildly amused. "Not necessary. Ask Mikaela for details if you wish--I have no desire to discuss it without her consent."

It went quiet for a moment. Mikaela could hear Optimus chopping. Sam folded one arm across his stomach, rested his elbow on his palm and rubbed his mouth with his other hand.

"I had a normal life," Sam muttered just loud enough to be heard. "I went to school, I had a car--"

"A car that led you to us because our fates were destined to intertwine. Like it or not, we were linked the moment your ancestor stumbled upon Megatron." Optimus went from chopping carrots to cutting up a head of lettuce.

Sam hung his head and Mikaela couldn't see his face. "I should've let dad get me the Mustang."

The rustling of knife through lettuce paused for a beat. "Yet you didn't."

"I didn't know."

Optimus chuckled, but Mikaela knew him well enough to know it was a bitter laugh. "Destiny is like birth, Sam. It is inevitable, and no matter how far or fast you run, the child will eventually be born. Right now, you are part of something far larger than yourself." He finished with the lettuce, added it to the bowl and reached for the tomatoes. "You can choose to fight it, or you can learn to accept and live with it."

"What about being a Prime? Didn't you have a choice in that?"

The Autobot leader shook his head. "Primes are born, not made.  _My_  fate was decided the moment my ancestors opened their optics to a very young universe. I lived a sheltered life for most of my...you could call it a childhood. I was happy with nothing to worry about other than keeping my servos out of trouble. Then one day I awoke to Megatron leading an army and a sea of people who needed a leader to stand up against him. Then the mech I called 'father' pulled me aside and began to talk to me about the Dynasty of Primes, the Matrix of Leadership, the Cube...what do you think I said to all of that?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

Optimus went on, "I told him he had the wrong bot. I didn't want any part of the war. I didn't want to fight against someone I still loved." He mixed the tomatoes into the salad. "Sixty seconds after I uttered those words, our home was bombed. My father died instantly in the blast. Everything around me was in burning ruins. My life had changed in the time it takes to blink an eye. The last thing my father remembered was me scoffing at him. Now, I would give anything to tell him he was right."

"But that's different," Sam said, frowning. He fidgeted with the dishtowel. "You weren't trying to live a normal life at the same time you had to fight a war."

Mikaela gripped the railing as a violent urge to strangle Sam leapt into her hands.

Suddenly, Optimus slapped the knife down on the countertop. He whirled on Sam and stepped into his personal space. The look on his face was so poisonous it made Sam back up against the sink.

"I sacrificed my  _life_  to fight this war. I died saving  _your_  life." Despite his anguish, his voice remained cool and even. "I am trying to keep this world from becoming like my own, but it is already halfway there because your species is just as violent as my ancestors."

"Why  _me?_ " Sam exploded. He threw his arms up in the air, "Out of all the people in the world you mix up with, it's me.  _Why?_  I did my part with the Cube. I did my part bringing you back. And I get paid back by you stealing my girlfriend! I don't get it!"

"She was there when we both needed the same thing, and it escalated." Optimus' servos whirred, and to his credit his voice lowered to an apologetic rumble. "We tried more than once to end our relationship. Then the pregnancy popped up, and you weren't  _there_  for her."

His tone wasn't accusing, but his statement stilled the verbal battlefield for a few heartbeats.

"I have a life. I can't just give it up because of a baby with bad timing." Now Sam was irate, his voice rising to fill the kitchen. "Then I find out you're boning Mikaela behind my back! What the hell do I say to that? Huh?" He squared his shoulders and glared, his teeth gleaming. "You're supposed to be the leader with all the answers and integrity, so explain it to me! Or should I have paid attention to all those rumors I heard about her being a sl--"

Optimus grabbed the front of Sam's shirt, yanking him so close they were nose to nose. When he spoke, it was almost too softly to hear, "That's  _enough_ , Sam."

"You--"

"Insult  _my_  honor all you like, but do not insult  _hers_."

Sam's face was suitably pale once Optimus let go. Nothing about Optimus' words were threatening, yet even Mikaela couldn't resist the chill in her spine. Sam backed off and smoothed his shirt, all the while avoiding Optimus' eyes.

Mikaela didn't want to watch or listen to any more of this. She did the freshening up she came upstairs for in the first place and headed back downstairs. Grabbing her winter coat off the rack in the closet, she pulled it on. By then, Optimus and Sam had separated and moved to opposite ends of the kitchen.

"I forgot the um...the toilet paper is running low. I should go get more before I forget again." She pretended she hadn't heard the exchange. "Shouldn't take too long."

"Go with her, Sam." Optimus said pointedly. "You two have a lot to discuss. No one should spend their holidays mired in animosity."

That made Mikaela groan mentally. She was planning to sit on the front steps and cry for a few minutes before leaving, and now she didn't even have that luxury. Biting back tears made her head ache.

"Easy for you to say." Sam muttered, but he grabbed his coat and boots. "Bumblebee can take us."

Sure. Bumblebee. The friend Sam would have traded in for his perfect little life. Mikaela's anguish stuck to her tongue like a foul taste. Whether or not me meant it, Sam talked about the Autobots like they were giant toys without feelings.

Mikaela got outside before Sam could shrug into his jacket. The biting cold stung her nostrils when she inhaled the crisp, clean air.

And she was just in time to catch Bumblebee dancing next to a very confused Ultra Magnus, his radio blaring.

"You said you had important information!" Ultra Magnus barked.

Bumblebee kept on dancing.

_"Never gonna give you up._   
_Never gonna let you down._   
_Never gonna run around and desert you._   
_Never gonna make you cry._   
_Never gonna say goodbye._   
_Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you..."_

"What in the world are you doing?" Mikaela couldn't stay sour with a hysterical display like that.

Bumblebee's radio cut out. He looked down and his optics twinkled in a mischievous smile. "Rickrolling, of course."

"Mikaela," Ultra Magnus calmly knelt to be more on her level. The way his eyebrow tabs tilted made the seam in his forehead look exactly like a wrinkle of confusion was funny. "Could you please explain to me what a 'Rickroll' is and why it is so amusing?"

Sam closed the door behind her with a thump and his boots crunched on the snowy front steps.

"It's a joke we play." Mikaela suppressed a giggle. "Um...it's funny because you get set up to expect one thing, and get the song instead."

Ultra Magnus, Mikaela realized, made some of the funniest faces out of all the Autobots. His facial plating scrunched like he'd eaten something sour as he stood up and lightly smacked Bumblebee upside the head. "Clearly you have taken a liking to this world's culture. Hopefully I will learn to understand it. Now, if you will excuse me, I should go back to listening for Decepticon chatter."

Sam sighed, his breath visible in the chilly afternoon air. He kept his head bowed.

Mikaela zipped up her gray jacket. "Hey, 'Bee, could you take us to Stater's real quick?"

Nodding, Bumblebee happily folded himself into a Camaro. Sam immediately took the driver's seat, leaving Mikaela to get into the passenger's side herself. As she sat down, she felt a foot jab her ribs.

"Don't kick me right now," she grumbled.

"I didn't kick you." Sam said.

"I wasn't talking to you." Mikaela replied. She pressed a fist against her side where the outlines of feet moved against her knuckles. Sometimes a few moments of pressure made Elita kick somewhere less painful.

"Does she move around a lot now?"

Mikaela grasped the edge of her seat when Bumblebee pulled out onto the dirt road. She glanced at Sam, who gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.

"Yeah," she turned her attention forward. "Optimus thinks it's the most fascinating thing in the world when she kicks. Sometimes I pull my shirt up and we just sit and watch little outlines of feet move across my stomach. It's so weird."

A noticeable tension rippled along Sam's posture. He adjusted himself in the seat. "I don't want to talk about Optimus right now."

That stung. Mikaela took her hand off the seat before her fingernails got a chance to dig into the leather. "You know what? The only reason I really noticed you is because we got mixed up in this mess between the Autobots and Decepticons. I thought maybe I could talk to you about it all, you know, since you saw the same things I did."

"Yeah, sure. And then you go off on prom night and--"

"God, Sam! For somebody who's almost twenty-one, you need to grow the hell up." Mikaela almost couldn't contain the swell of anguish rising into the base of her skull. "I saw Optimus  _cry_ , Sam. I couldn't just leave him out there. Things went from there and--"

"Tch. I paid eighty bucks for you to go off with somebody else."

"Take your head out of your ass for one minute and pay attention to somebody besides yourself," Mikaela snapped. "I'm just as confused and messed up as you are, okay?"

"I still don't know what you see in him."

Bumblebee stopped at a red light and Mikaela wondered what he thought of the whole argument.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah." Sam rapped on the steering wheel. "Might as well know where I failed, right?"

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "He's not interested in me because I'm 'the hot girl.'"

Sam's jaw dropped. He balked at her, "D'you really think that's the only reason I liked you?"

"Then name another one."

"Uhhh..."

_Ugh!_  Mikaela nearly slugged him right there. Not out of spite, but because she couldn't even argue with him and keep it coherent.

The silence stretched on, growing more awkward until Bumblebee's radio suddenly blasted Jordin Sparks:

_"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?_   
_A battlefield..._   
_A battlefield..._   
_Why does love always feel like--"_

Sam shut the radio back off.

"Optimus can't even kiss you." He dragged their discussion back to its beginning.

"Actually, he can, just in his own way." She was getting so upset that her stomach wound itself in knots. The next words out of her mouth surfaced before her mind could suppress them. "And, in case you're wondering, he does a hell of a job getting me off."

"I still think that's gross." Sam muttered, and Bumblebee suddenly stalled. He blinked and turned the key. Bumblebee shuddered a few times, his engine making a whining noise suspiciously similar to a mechanical sob.

"Hey, Bumblebee? What's the deal?" Sam kept twisting the key until they started moving again.

"The cold irritates my intakes." Bumblebee said by way of reply. He sounded off. "My apologies."

Mikaela knew the Camaro was crying when she felt the seat beneath her twitch. She lowered her hand out of Sam's sight and petted the inside of his door in attempt to bring a little comfort.

Moments later, they drove up to the parking lot of the Stater Brothers supermarket. It was getting late and dusk turned the sky lavender. Bumblebee's tires skidded a little on the slippery, icy driveway.

Sam made a face. "C'mon, Bumblebee, stop clowning around and--"

Mikaela saw headlights coming up fast behind them. The next thing she knew was the crunch of a rear-end impact. She grabbed her belly instinctively as her forehead smashed into the brick wall of a deploying airbag. The collision knocked her head violently backwards and she fell back against the seat. Her world swam. She vaguely noticed Sam draped across Bumblebee's steering wheel like discarded clothing tossed haphazardly aside. Why hadn't the driver's side airbag fired?

Somebody opened the passenger side door. Mikaela couldn't focus on the person's face beyond noticing a mustache and black aviator sunglasses.

"Sam!" Mikaela called out. "Get Sam! Sam!  _Sam!_ "

"Don't worry, I'll retrieve him." The cop said. He carried her to his car and laid her in the back seat. "You lay still. I will transport you and your friend to the hospital myself."

"My baby--"

"Is fine. I felt it move."

He walked away and returned with Sam, belting him into the front seat.

Mikaela rolled over and noticed weird stitching in the black upholstery. No, not stitching.

A Decepticon sigil.

Her hold on consciousness failed as Barricade drove away, leaving Bumblebee by the roadside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional note for this site: This was written before DOTM, so it's safe to say maybe Sam went through a few girlfriends before he met Carly. I'm still amused that I named a girl Charley and later on Sam ends up with a girl named Carly and there's a CHARLOTTE in DOTM. It's completely unintentional yet utterly hilarious!


	11. Chapter 11

Coldness crept into Mikaela's skin. She grew dimly aware of voices--one a husky rasp, one squeaky, one almost a monotone, one with a stutter and one that grated.

Something huge leaned over her, blocking out the light digging into her closed eyes. The glow turned red.

Mikaela cracked her eyelids, afraid to truly  _look_. Through the haze of her eyelashes she saw a red optic surrounded by jagged silver. It took her foggy mind a moment or two to process why it wasn't Optimus leaning over her.

"I never noticed how delicate females are," Megatron purred, and the tip of his smallest claw caressed her thigh.

How strange that she'd feel that through--

_What happened to my jeans?_  Mikaela pushed ineffectively at the razor-sharp metal that could slice her skin any second. She'd been divested of everything but her bra--which explained the uncomfortable chill biting her back.

Reality crystallized in Mikaela's mind, and she opened her eyes wide. She was practically naked with Megatron ogling and touching her body.

"Take your claws off me," she spat, scooting away. Her head still swam with the effects of a concussion. She couldn't recall exactly what happened before she woke up, but she still knew the date and what her and Sam argued about before  _this_.

Megatron's claws slapped down around her. Pinchers grasped her wrists. They were colder than the table. She felt it seeping up her arms as if the very ice in his eyes had somehow invaded her body through his fingertips.

Mikaela avoided Megatron's gaze by twisting her head sideways. She saw Sam sitting against the wall not too far away. High above him, scaffolding criss-crossed in a maze of catwalks. The area looked like an old, abandoned hangar. She could faintly smell oil and cardboard, and, fainter, a stinging iodine-like tang that left an unpleasant taste in the back of her throat.

"S-Sam..." Mikaela breathed.

Sam's glazed eyes focused on her. A wet wound on his forehead left trails of blood that he'd failed to completely wipe away. It looked like war paint around his eyes and nose. His dilated pupils shifted from her to Megatron and back.

"Let me go!" Mikaela wriggled her wrists until she'd nearly worked one free.

"Stop squirming, fleshling!" Megatron's grasp recaptured her wrist just below the carpal bones. No twisting or jiggling would break his grip this time. "Shockwave, tell the Doctor that the specimen is awake."

"Right away." It was the monotone voice. Mikaela saw something hulking--Megatron's size, maybe even larger--stand up and move towards the door. There were bits of propeller on its back, so she guessed his alternate mode involved some sort of helicopter.

Minutes passed. All the while, Mikaela's eyes darted between Sam and Megatron.

"You don't need Sam." She shivered. "Let him go."

"And let him miss the fun?" Megatron grinned at her, revealing his sharp, metallic teeth.

Sam gasped and pressed himself harder against the wall. Mikaela heard soft clicking noises underneath the table where Megatron held her pinned.

The little robot that crawled onto the table was the same spider-like creature that tried to rip out Sam's brain. The freaky little Doctor talked with a German accent and his beady red optics made Mikaela's stomach knot up in revulsion.

"Hm...perfect twenty point five week fetus." The Doctor ignored Mikaela's horrified expression and crawled onto the bulging skin of her pregnant belly. Oddly, he didn't weigh much, and his movements made Elita kick so hard he almost lost his balance. He wouldn't be deterred, however, and proceeded to scan Mikaela's belly with a red beam that made goosebumps break out on her flesh.

"Why the hell are you so interested in our kid?" Sam started to stand up.

Megatron silently used his other hand to shove Sam back down. An effort no more than a nudge, yet he sent Sam sprawling.

"Sam!" Mikaela shrieked.

"I'm okay," Sam grunted. He sat up again while clutching at his side.

The Doctor crawled far lower than Mikaela was comfortable with. She bent her knees and crossed her legs. Her heart thudded so hard she wondered if everyone in the room could hear it. She startled at every click, whirr and hiss from Megatron's movements.

"The internal probe is required," the Doctor squeaked. A panel in his side opened. He pulled out a device that unfurled like a wiggling metal centipede. "Pregnancy is delicate...must not dilate the cervix or allow the loss of amniotic fluid. Nanites are best."

"Hell no!" Mikaela tightened her thighs. "You're not shoving anything up my--"

"Shut up!" Megatron barked. He used two more fingers to push her legs apart and backwards, forcing her into the lithotomy position. "The Doctor here just wants to..." He smirked and his voice became deceptively soothing, "...confirm something. No harm will come to your fetus if you just remain  _still_."

"Please don't do this..." Mikaela clenched her teeth. Her plea fell on deaf audios. She saw The Doctor crawl onto the table, around her thigh and his head popped up between her legs. Suddenly, she felt something made of slick metal pushing its way into her body. It did not hurt, nor did it stretch her, yet knowing she had an alien device wiggling in her vagina made her want to vomit.

Warmth flooded her lower pelvis--right where she usually felt menstrual discomfort. Elita jerked violently--so violently Mikaela thought her body would tear in half. No-- _that_  wasn't Elita...

"Nanite insertion successful. Probe formation confirmed. No organic damage."

Sam's eyes widened. Mikaela looked over in time to see him lean over and vomit in a cardboard box. She didn't have that luxury, and had to swallow the bitter bile when it lurched onto her tongue.

A holographic display projected itself from the Doctor's optics. Mikaela could see a worm-like device wrap itself around her baby's waist. Elita tried to curl up, to escape, and her little mouth even opened in a silent cry.

"Stop it!" Mikaela's eyes welled up until tears overflowed. "God, just stop it!"

If that wasn't bad enough, Mikaela's eyesight saturated until her ears rang and voices shouted in her head. She couldn't understand them.

Blearily, Mikaela's awareness of Megatron dimmed and faded into a foggy, rocky landscape. She saw herself at ten years old, dirty and frightened--except her eyes were brown.

_I never had brown eyes_... Mikaela thought dully.

"Mikaela!" Sam's voice reached her, but she couldn't escape the vision.

Her young self's face shone in a blue-white light. She reached towards its source, and her eyes glowed before turning bright blue.

Images of glowing azure genes flitted into Mikaela's mind. The family tree flowchart she'd drawn at K-Mart snapped against her consciousness like a lightning bolt. She saw the genes attaching themselves to a DNA strand. It repeated over and over, stretching like flowers in both directions until it was as long as the flowchart. Then her foggy younger self looked up towards a face--

One of the Primes gazed back through optics too dim to discern their color. She tried to give him water, but he didn't have a mouth. He died--and she, the girl still so young, wept.

The episode ended as fast as it began. Just in time for Mikaela to feel the probe sliding back out of her body.

"The fetus has Prime's plasmagenic code in her DNA." The Doctor took the probe he'd inserted and a lens on its tail displayed the same DNA strand Mikaela saw projected from Ratchet's arm weeks ago. Familiar azure genes highlighted themselves throughout varying points in the coiled strand. "The human male was just a catalyst."

"Heh! I sensed Optimus was in love again..." Megatron released Mikaela's arms and legs and leered down at her. "How he fathered an organic child without directly inserting...well it's no matter. We have a Prime repository right here, and I can't wait to see it born."

"What?" Sam sat up. "What do you mean? That's  _my_  kid! Mikaela, tell him!"

Violated, sick inside and wanting the ground to swallow her whole, Mikaela curled up on her side with her cheek resting on her folded hands. She felt like she'd been raped. Her dark hair framed her face when she stared at Sam. The truth was in her eyes and his widened when she did nothing to deny it.

"You have a very unfaithful mate." Megatron snorted derisively at Sam. He laughed like a creature from a horror film and left the immediate area with the Doctor scuttling after his heels. His footsteps shook the ground.

The Doctor said, "We must wait at least three point five months to deliver the fetus, or it will not survive without interventions."

"Then find OUT what those interventions are, and prepare them. I want that child removed from her as soon as it can survive outside the womb!"

"Human fetal viability is approximately twenty-two weeks. If we can hold her for two more weeks, we can take the fetus and she will be of no consequence."

Their voices faded until Mikaela couldn't hear them anymore. She could only lay there, horrified by their careless discussion of  _cutting_  Elita from her body. They would leave her to die, and Elita...what about Elita?

Sam scrambled up to the table and threw his jacket over Mikaela's nearly nude body. "Oh, my God...he just--he--that thing up your--what the fuck do they mean?"

"It  _is_  Optimus' baby." Mikaela choked out. Then she burst into tears and hid her face behind her hands. "They want what she knows."

"God..." Sam shook his head and climbed onto the table, holding her from behind. "We'll get out of this somehow. I left my phone on vibrate...hope maybe Optimus or the big white guy picks it up and finds us."

Soothing words, but Mikaela didn't have the wherewithal to heed them. Her body--and Elita's--had been violated. Nausea cramped her stomach. What if that nasty little robot left something floating in her uterus along with Elita?

At least Elita kept moving. She seemed all right. Mikaela wished she could say the same about herself.

She was almost asleep in Sam's arms when Rumble dumped a jumbo bag of pre-popped popcorn next to the table.

"Sustenance was ordered. Must feed fetus."

He left again.

It was diet-friendly popcorn with no real nutritional value beyond a few carbohydrates.

Mikaela ate several handfuls of the tasteless, butter-less popcorn. She didn't feel hungry, but she also didn't know when she'd get to eat again. Getting  _something_ slightly nourishing into the baby's bloodstream was more important to her than her own nausea. Thankfully, she didn't throw it all back up.

Sam waited until she'd finished before he ate what she didn't. He said nothing between bites and she made no efforts at conversation.

_Megatron's lackey violated me. He touched my baby_... Mikaela's sight blurred until the wall was just a streak of gray. For the first time since she met the Autobots, she found herself wishing she hadn't gotten in the car--into Bumblebee--when Sam had uttered those famous words: "Fifty years from now, when you're looking back on your life, don't you want to say you had the guts to get in the car?" The only difference was she knew this couldn't be undone, walked away from or ignored into oblivion.

Her head  _ached_. So did Sam's, if his rubbing his temples wasn't any indication.

If she wasn't pregnant, Mikaela might have laid there and wallowed in what happened. But her life wasn't her own. She had an unborn baby to protect. Falling apart could come  _after_  she found safety. With no way of knowing where she was or if the Autobots could locate them, she knew she couldn't wait to be rescued.

"Sam, where are my clothes?"

Sam paused on the last bite of popcorn. His face shone pale under the harsh lights. He dropped the empty bag and started poking around underneath the table. "Your shirt's ripped in half."

And the zipper on her jeans was busted.

Mikaela shook her head as she pulled her jeans on. Her underwear were still inside and somehow managed not to wind up in shreds. She buttoned the jeans, then grabbed her ruined shirt, folded it in half from top to bottom and tied it in place just under her breasts so it fell over her belly like a buffer. The more layers she put between the outside world and Elita, the safer she felt.

Sam pulled his T-shirt off and handed it to Mikaela. This left him in just his gray sweatshirt.

"Thanks." Mikaela stuck her arms into the armholes and shoved her head through the neck hole. It smelled like Axe body spray, stinging her nose. Finally, she found her jacket. Mercifully it was still intact, and she zipped it all the way up to her neck. "We can't sit here and wait to be saved."

Sam looked like a deer in headlights. "They'll kill us if we run!"

"We'd be dead right now if they wanted us dead! We're bait, Sam. At least  _you_  probably are. I'm just a walking incubator until Elita's old enough to survive outside my body. We HAVE to get out of here." Mikaela gingerly took a step to test her own balance. "We don't even know where the hell we are. The Autobots might not even know."

"I thought the first rule of being taken hostage is to do what they say until you can negotiate with--"

"Do you really think these guys want to negotiate?" Mikaela held her head when it pounded again. "They aren't terrorists, they're hostile aliens. Now let's get the fuck out of here before they decide to probe my ass again."

Sam pursed his lips until they turned white and nodded his head slowly in resolve. "I know we're outside the city. I woke up on the way here, and I didn't see any buildings. We're probably close to the desert...or something. My geography isn't that great." He steadied her when she bent to re-tie her boot laces.

The air inside the hangar was cold, but Mikaela still started to sweat under her jacket. She ignored Sam and looked around the area. It was dirty and dingy, but cold and clinical at the same time. By the look of things there were vast doorways leading to other areas of the hangar. She didn't see Megatron anywhere. Maybe he went outside. There really wasn't any time to go peeking out windows. She turned around to resume her assessment of the situation.

Various metal parts from...she couldn't even guess...littered the floor. She knelt by the biggest pile and dug until she found a rusty piece of pipe. Nice and heavy--she tested it in her hands before tossing it to Sam. She pushed her hand deeper into the pile, felt something and pulled out a crowbar almost as long as her arm.

_Oh, merry Christmas_. Mikaela thought to herself. She looked up at Sam. "If you see Rumble or that freaky little Doctor...bash the shit out of them."

"And what about the bigger ones? The purple one is bigger than Megatron!"

Mikaela scanned the room. "Look around. See if you can find any chains or ropes."

"What good will those do?"

"For making trip wires."

"Tripping giant robots?" Sam wiped at the wet wound on his brow, smearing even more blood against the bridge of his nose. "Won't they just break things like that with their ankles?"

"I don't know!" Mikaela didn't want to debate. "Maybe it'll tangle up on their armor and mess up their joints. Who cares? Sit on your ass if you want, but I'm finding a way OUT of this."

With that, she started checking another pile of scrap. It looked a bit like aircraft parts mixed with automotive. When she happened upon a few Cybertronian symbols, she realized these were parts of Decepticons killed in Egypt. She clamped her teeth against the back of her tongue so she wouldn't gag.

"Hey!" Sam rattled something. "I think I found a utility chain." He held it up--a heavy duty chain bearing a hook on each end.

"See if you can find more."

"There's a ton of them over here. They look kind of like huge bike chains."

"Roll chains?" Mikaela's eyes widened. She didn't know a lot about heavy duty equipment, but she knew roll chains were often used in cranes, which meant they had to be long, built to handle impacts and able to withstand a lot of weight. "Perfect!"

Bending over wasn't as easy as it used to be. Mikaela missed her pre-pregnancy waistline each time she had to kneel. Her thighs were already screaming. Even with piles of chain, she noticed they'd never span the massive doors. Mikaela had Sam help her string them across as much of the door as she could, and hoped for the best.

"...Optimus is coming." Megatron's voice came from far off.

The door wasn't closed tight. Mikaela peeked out into the night, ignoring the cold air that blew across her eyeball. She saw Megatron's feet walking along asphalt, and in the distance the gigantic form she assumed was Shockwave stood like a statue. Starscream crouched at Shockwave's left and Barricade hung around on his right.

Shockwave didn't even have a face. His entire head looked similar to a mutated surveillance camera with a single, eerie eye that glowed amber.

Mikaela heard Sam join her.

"Man...no wonder they're not worried about guarding us. There's nowhere to run to. You sure you want to try and get out of here?"

"Hell yes." She eyed the chain strung less than a quarter of the way across the door. Sam had taken the utility chain and hooked it where the drive chain ended so it was strung all the way over to another pile of parts.

"Got your pipe?" Mikaela hedged.

"Yeah. Got the crowbar?"

"Yup."

They bolted across the floor where the back door took some force to slide open. Icy air blasted their faces. Mikaela coughed and thanked God for heavy winter jackets as wind bit angrily into her cheekbones.

A full moon rose right in front of them, spilling an eerie, dim yellow glow over the ground.

"No matter what happens, we need to keep that building right behind us as long as we can," Sam said. "We'll get further without them seeing--"

Something slammed into Mikaela's back so hard she fell onto her knees.

"No take fetus!" Rumble started digging into her jacket, his hands pulling at her hair. He felt like a metallic monkey clinging onto her shoulders. "No take! Give!"

"Get off her!" Sam spun around and swung the pipe. Mikaela covered her head as a sickening crunch sounded above her.

Rumble hit the ground. He scrambled right back up, but Sam was quicker and bashed the pipe into the little robot's face. Rumble rolled over and charged him. Mikaela snatched up the crowbar she'd dropped, ran over and hooked the curved end into the small mech's shoulder armor. Yanking Rumble off Sam, she hurled him onto the cement and pounded the crowbar repeatedly against his body. All the rage she built up from being violated, scared, jerked around and, most of all, having her child threatened--it came surging through her muscles in a huge tsunami of emotion.

"You--little--bastard!" Mikaela growled. Her eyes were wild like the vision of her younger self.

"Mikaela!" Sam yelled in shock.

Rumble screamed something in Cybertronian. His hand transformed into a gun, but she smashed it before he took aim.

"Bitch human!"

"Shut up!" Mikaela jammed the straight end of the crowbar between Rumble's chest plates and wrenched it sideways. "This'll teach you to threaten my baby, you little piece of shit!" She snarled, driving the crowbar into Rumble's Spark chamber. There was a flash and the tiny mech went limp.

The doors on the other end of the hangar started to open.

Sam grabbed Mikaela's arm. She pulled back the crowbar that now had glowing purple ooze clinging to the tip and they broke into a dead run towards the moon.

" _Find_  them!" Megatron's voice boomed in the distance. Chains suddenly snapped and the next sound was something large crashing into the ground.

Mikaela spotted a line of port-a-potties in the distance. She yanked Sam behind one and leaned back to catch her breath. All the activity set off painful cramping in her belly, like a stitch in her womb. She prayed silently that she hadn't somehow gone into pre-term labor after all of this.

"Hey, you okay?"

Gasping, Mikaela felt her stomach settle down. "Yeah. I-I'm okay."

"Great. Then let's--"

"Shh!"

Faint tremors shook the ground as metal footsteps approached. Chains dragged along the asphalt.

"Ready or not, little fleshlings..." Megatron clenched his claws, "here I come."

Mikaela shoved Sam along the line of port-a-potties. He yanked her hand, halting her.

"I think we're surrounded." Sam's eyes were just two twinkles in the moonlight. His phone buzzed and he grabbed it. "Hello?"

A pause.

"Mikaela...it's Optimus. Wait--what? WHAT?" Sam's mouth dropped. "Oh, no, no, no...you want me to--hello? Hello?"

"What?"

"He told me to run east...and to hide you in one of the port-a-potties until the Decepticons are all distracted."

"And?"

"Then you run north. Bumblebee is gonna find me on the field and Optimus is out there, hiding...or something. Oh, God..."

"Sam..."

"Dammit, Mikaela, I hate this!"

_Yeah, but you can walk off when it's done. I still have to give birth and raise this little girl_...

Mikaela shook away her bitter thoughts. She held onto his arm, unable to formulate a proper reply. Just when she found one, Sam shoved her into the port-a-potty.

"We'll sort this out later."

His boots thudded on the asphalt. Mikaela heard him yelling insults as he ran.

"There!" Megatron yelled. It sounded like a herd of buffalo approaching.

Mikaela waited until all went quiet. An eerie silence so absolute she could hear her own heart thudding and a soft tapping on the roof above her.

She waited.

The tapping stopped.

Licking her lips, Mikaela cracked the door and used the crowbar to push it open another inch.

The Doctor sprang down from the roof and latched onto her hair. Screaming, Mikaela staggered backwards into the port-a-potty and its door slammed shut, trapping her. She flailed in attempt to shake the spider-like robot off. The claws on her head suddenly disappeared. Mikaela heard the Doctor scuttling along the wall. It was too dark; she couldn't see anything other than the white toilet seat and two round, red optics lining up to her eyes.

"Stand still and this won't hurt." He said.  _Something_  on his body glowed dull white. "A brainstem is easy to stimulate until the fetus can survive outside."

Mikaela dropped into a squat as laser fire sliced the wall behind her. She gasped, choking on the putrid smelt of burnt hair. He'd missed her head by millimeters!

_Shit! Oh shit, God help me!_  Mikaela screamed mentally.

Another shot from the Doctor singed her bootlace. There was no room to maneuver in such a tiny space. Mikaela inhaled.

"Wait! Stop...I-I think I'm having contractions! I...oh, God!"

The Doctor didn't move. Mikaela cursed mentally--her plan failed. Was she really going to die here in a smelly port-a-potty?

Elita kicked. Once. Twice.

Mikaela breathed out. She remembered the crowbar in her hands. Her fists clenched around it. The same force that helped her destroy Rumble welled again within her body.

_No_.

The Doctor violated her. He was an obstacle to the survival of herself and Elita.

Mikaela felt it burning in her bones. A primal instinct known by her ancestors thousands of years ago. Kill, or be killed.

She wanted to  _live_.

Then the Doctor leapt at her, and all thought left Mikaela's mind. She swung the crowbar blindly while the Doctor's claws cut into her jacket, nicking her arm. Her world became a barrage of claws and shrieks and heat from a too-close laser weapon.

Suddenly, the crowbar connected, and the red light went out.

Blinded now, the Doctor fired randomly until Mikaela knocked him off the wall and smashed the crowbar into his arm. She kept hitting him. Over and over, nearly deaf to the crunch of each impact. Once or twice, the Doctor tried to crawl away. She kicked him onto his back and stepped on his legs, pinning him. This mech was far more durable than Rumble, but not nearly as strong. He could only shriek as Mikaela jammed the straight end of the crowbar into his neck joint and pried until his head snapped off. She stomped on it. Then she pounded the still-moving torso. Adrenalin fueled her assault, numbing her to the pain in her tired shoulders and thighs. She kept swinging until the toilet seat and floor were littered with robot parts, oil and spatters of energon that somehow didn't get on her skin.

Then she fled the gruesome scene and prayed for Sam's survival. It wasn't until her feet hit grass that the callousness of her actions hit her. Was she some kind of monster for killing two living, sentient beings? How did Optimus handle doing it every day for millions of years?

_They were going to take Elita_ , Mikaela's rational mind answered.  _You were defending her life_.

Mikaela kept running through grass and brambles. Freezing wind blasted her face. She told herself the tears pouring down her cheeks was the dry air. It hurt to breathe, but she couldn't stop moving.

"Have you sighted the boy?" Starscream rasped in the distance.

Shockwave answered from further away. "He may have entered the ditch!"

"Find him! Better yet, find the female!"

Mikaela didn't hear Barricade at all. She faced the directions the voices came from, but the moonlight only let her see faint flickers of distant optics or reflections off armor.

Suddenly, servos whirred behind her. Too fast to react. She shrieked as hands cupped her body and pulled her forward.

"Mikaela!" A familiar voice spoke. "Mikaela, it's me."

Mikaela focused on two gentle, blue optics and fought down the sudden tears of relief flooding to the surface. "Optimus...oh, God..." Her entire form quaked so hard that he adjusted his hands to prevent her from falling. "S-Sam...he's--"

"Bumblebee has him. We have a strategic plan of attack in place to cover your departure." Optimus petted her back with his other thumb. She noticed he wasn't kneeling, but lying in an army-crawl position on the ground.

"So Bumblebee and Sam are okay?"

"Ratchet repaired Bumblebee quickly. The damage was minor. Sam is fine, Mikaela." Optimus frowned. "Ultra Magnus informed me of an interesting distraction he plans to use. You need to be well away from here in case it fails."

"I hope it works."

"So do I. Now, Mikaela," Optimus looked straight into her eyes. "Bumblebee is taking up a position a hundred yards behind my feet. Run to him. He will take you to safety."

_Don't break down yet!_  Mikaela screamed at the hot swelling in her chest and throat. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine." He winked at her, "You have a Prime within you. She needs to live."

Seeing Optimus only to leave him again...it hurt.

Optimus drew her closer and she felt his lip plates brush her cheek and shoulder. "I love you...and it will be okay."

His touch wasn't cold like Megatron's. He felt warm, alive and  _safe_. She placed her hands on his bottom lip plate and touched her lips to it. "I love you, too. You'd better come back alive, dammit."

"I will. Now go." Optimus lifted his head. He moved her quickly to the side. "Hurry!"

Mikaela skipped to catch her balance and sprinted past Optimus' legs. Pausing for just a second, she saw Optimus inch forward in the grass and emit a powerful electric-sounding chirp. Another chirp answered from far off. A third squealed somewhere near the source of the second. The fourth was directly ahead. She didn't hear the fifth.

"Mikaela!" Optimus twisted around to frown at her. "Get going!"

Gulping, Mikaela resumed her course. Optimus' feet disappeared out of her peripheral vision. She ran for what felt like miles before she saw the moon's glow shimmer on Bumblebee's windshield. Bumblebee rolled forward and swung open his passenger door, and Mikaela threw herself in before he reached a complete stop. "Go!"

Bumblebee took off for the paved road Mikaela didn't realize they were ten feet from. He drove behind the hangar, stopped and idled. Mikaela saw Ultra Magnus drive by, a white streak against the night. Bumblebee jolted forward, took a left around the hangar and drove parallel to the battlefield. Mikaela glimpsed Ultra Magnus getting behind the Decepticons and transforming. How they didn't notice him boggled her, but not nearly as much as what happened next.

Ultra Magnus charged right at the three Decepticons. Shockwave turned around, weapons at ready. Then Ultra Magnus stopped, his cannons drawn...

...and then his radio blared:

_"Never gonna give you up._   
_Never gonna let you down._   
_Never gonna run around and desert you._   
_Never gonna make you cry._   
_Never gonna say goodbye._   
_Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you..."_

Shockwave was so busy gawking that he never saw Optimus sneak up behind him. Starscream and Barricade yelled out in alarm a second too late. Even Mikaela missed it because Bumblebee started rolling again, and they passed a shed at the moment of the attack.

Explosion after explosion rocked the landscape. Bumblebee's side mirrors cracked from the shockwaves.

Mikaela looked at Sam. He was covered in dirt and grass. His eyes met hers and he smiled shakily. She couldn't quite return it.

The hangar exploded behind them. Bumblebee swerved around the flaming metal raining down in his path. Mikaela saw Megatron's disjointed image in the Camaro's fractured side mirror. Against the orange fire he was a jagged silhouette walking towards them, his red optics glowing sadistically.

"Oh, shit! Bumblebee, go!"

Optimus emerged from the wall of flames and slammed into Megatron's back. They rolled across the tarmac, grappling and tearing at each other. Up ahead, Ironhide fired his cannons into the air. The roar of a jet gave away Starscream's cowardly retreat. On the field, Ultra Magnus and Barricade fought, but Mikaela gasped when she noticed Ultra Magnus only using one arm.

Shadows moved against the burning hangar.

"You loved me as deeply as you love her," Megatron cooed.

"That was a long time ago, Megatron." Optimus said back. He drove his knee into the Decepticon leader's jaw. Megatron recovered and grabbed Optimus' arm, his other claw lightly stroking over metal and windshield glass before sliding up to caress his battle mask.

"Forget the female. I'm willing to love you again,  _if_ \--"

Optimus reached up and took Megatron's hand. He narrowed his eyes and pushed it away just as the blade came flying out. "Love doesn't come with stipulations."

Megatron's optics flared. "Then she will watch you die!"

He wrenched his arm free, spun around--and Optimus performed a fantastic backwards handspring to avoid having his legs sawed off. They locked again, metal gnashing on metal as the fire raged around them.

Megatron said " _if_."

Mikaela chewed on her bottom lip.

Megatron could love Optimus again  _if_  he turned his back on her, Elita and the Autobots.

She glanced at Sam.

Sam could love her again  _if_  she turned her back on Optimus, Elita and her own heart.

Bumblebee skidded around a corner and the fight faded into the distance. Mikaela let her head fall back against the seat. She closed her eyes and shivered despite her warm jacket.

Optimus never said " _if_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Ultra Magnus totally Rickrolled the Decepticons.


	12. Chapter 12

Sleep was Mikaela's way of mentally escaping a situation. After Mission City, she slept for twelve hours. When she got home from Egypt, she spent almost fourteen hours in bed. She might have gone to sleep and awakened sixteen hours later if Sam didn't poke her when they reached the cabin. She groggily pushed the combination into the door, turned on the lights and entered.

Sam immediately crashed on the downstairs couch.

Mikaela wordlessly offered him a blanket before hurrying upstairs. Stripping as she went, she practically threw herself into the shower and scrubbed her skin raw. She shaved off her pubic hair and washed her nether regions three times. Even then it felt like she'd never be clean again.

_Then_  she turned off the water, dried herself...and the tears she held back so long burst forth so loudly she ran the water again to keep her sobbing from waking Sam.

Two sets of jakes roared across the dirt road.

"Ironhide, don't pull on his arm! Let him transform."

Mikaela recognized Ultra Magnus' voice when he groaned. Clanks and a horrid screech indicated some serious damage.

"Oh, slag. This will definitely be an all-night repair job." Ratchet huffed. "Ironhide, tell Bumblebee to stop crying by the shed. I don't care what his problem is right now. Ultra Magnus will need a large infusion of energon during surgery. I already have four gallons from Optimus. I need two from the rest of you. Now!"

"W-what happened?" Ultra Magnus croaked.

"Megatron retreated." Ratchet said. "I'll know more when Optimus debriefs us. You shut up and let me repair you. It's always the left arm with you. Hmph."

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice muffled behind the bathroom door. "Are you in there?"

"Yes." Mikaela called, and cursed softly when her voice cracked.

"May I enter?"

She wiped her face with the towel, put on deodorant and fought back the rising lump in her windpipe. Her reflection's face reddened all over again.

"Dammit," she slammed her palms against the sink and covered her face. "Dammit!"

Optimus came in without waiting for her invitation. He turned her around and pulled her to his chest, holding her safe in his armored arms. All without a word--he just held her, letting her cry as long as she needed to. His body warmed when she started to shiver.

"I-I-I killed two bots tonight. Rumble and that...that Doctor...it wasn't like that bot at Sam's college. I...I beat them, stabbed them..."

"It was the only way out." Optimus said softly. "It was the only way to stop them. You defended yourself."

Mikaela sniffed back the snot trying to run out of her nose. She hated crying so hard. "Am I a murderer?"

"No." He took her face fiercely in his hands. Oh, she had to look disgusting right now, but he didn't care. "You are  _not_  a murderer or a monster. You are a mother with a right to defend yourself and your child. It was your lives or theirs."

Sniffling again, Mikaela wiped her nose on a piece of toilet paper. Then she cleaned off the tears and mucus she'd cried all over Optimus' chest plate. Tears were still leaking from her eyes, but the sobbing had stopped for the most part.

"Your arm." He touched her bicep where the Doctor nicked her.

"It's fine." Mikaela sighed. The wound didn't even hurt and showering had washed off the blood. She'd been so high on adrenalin that she forgot she'd been cut. "Did you kill Shockwave?"

Optimus nodded, blinking slowly. "He nearly shot Ultra Magnus in half. His laser weaponry can sever limbs...Ultra Magnus is lucky he only lost his arm. Ratchet will repair him."

Mikaela heaved a shaky sigh. Optimus let her go so she could dry her hair, but embraced her again once she'd shrugged into her bathrobe.

"By the way, the ham didn't burn. It was just finishing when word of your capture reached me. It's in the refrigerator along with the rest of the meal. Would you like me to heat some up for you and Sam?"

The thought of food made her feel nauseated. She shook her head. "Not hungry. But I--I need Ratchet to scan me when he's done fixing Ultra Magnus' arm."

Optimus' optics narrowed. "Did the Doctor--"

"Yeah. Little bastard." Mikaela fought against a new wave of weeping.

For a few seconds, Optimus' optics flared. She saw him shake his head and heard his lip plates grind together, but the expression melted as quickly as it came.

She opened the bathrobe and pulled Optimus' hands inside, laying them against her back. "Please...just touch me. I don't want metal to make me have flashbacks of what happened back there. I'd rather it remind me of you."

It wasn't an invitation for sex, and Optimus understood her perfectly. He spread his fingers and rubbed her back in slow, gentle circles. Her tense muscles began to relax almost immediately. Then he carried her bridal-style into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and massaged her hips where her pregnancy created the most tension. He had magic hands when it came to deep tissue massage, and Mikaela knew his touch meant safety.

"Shall we practice for labor?"

"Mm." Mikaela let him help her back up and they went through the various positions, breathing and vocalizations. Labor practice was a nightly routine they shared, and by then it was such second nature that Mikaela knew she'd be ready when Elita decided to meet the world.

Optimus curled up with her when she settled down in bed. He had a real advantage over organic men--she could lay a pillow against his arm and not worry about the limb falling asleep. He didn't have muscles that tired or cramped from staying too long in one position.

Mikaela laid on her side with her eyes closed while Optimus rested his hand over her heart.

"Sleep." His soothing voice rumbled in her ear. "I'll stay right here. If you begin to show signs of a nightmare, I will wake you."

She kissed him in thanks. Sleep came easily on the heels of his promise.

.o

Ham with cream corn and salad became the official weirdest breakfast Mikaela ever ate in her life. Then again, she slept until almost three o'clock in the afternoon and didn't bother putting on any more than a bathrobe. Optimus reheated the food in the microwave and Sam and Mikaela sat on the floor next to the Christmas tree to eat. After last night, they tacitly agreed the tablecloth, fancy plates and wine glasses would be pretentious.

"Hope you don't mind if I used the downstairs shower." Sam said.

Mikaela shook her head to dismiss it. He'd been filthy--and now the couch he slept on needed a good cleaning.

"Man," Sam stuffed a chunk of ham into his mouth. "Optimus cooks better than my mom. Never thought I'd hear myself say that."

"Wouldn't know it by looking at him, would you?" Mikaela said back. She rolled a rough carrot slice around on her tongue and added a bite of salty-sweet ham. Gooey, warm cream corn came next. The combined smells and tastes equated to the holiday just around the corner.

"Nope." Sam sipped sparkling cider from a regular plastic glass. "But I want to know why you and I had sex, but the baby is Optimus'. I don't get it. Is it some Virgin Mary miracle?"

"Maybe if I was a virgin."

"It's just as impossible. Of course..." Sam rolled an olive around with his fingers, "Optimus coming back to life seemed pretty impossible, too. So...how'd it work?" He focused his hazel eyes on her from the small distance separating them. Sam really was a cute guy...

Mikaela finished chewing before she answered, "Um...okay, you got a head pumped full of All Spark knowledge and handled the Matrix of Leadership, right?"

"Yeah."

She sipped the cool, apple-flavored cider that bubbled pleasantly on her tongue. Outside the windows, snow-covered trees shone like angels against the blue sky.

"I guess what happened is it kind of changed your DNA. I think Ratchet called it a temporary mutation. Whatever. Anyway, we had sex. Then Optimus and I fooled around three days later while on the road. We thought it was breakup sex."

A frown creased Sam's wounded brow, but he let her continue.

"Turns out that Optimus released some kind of energy that completed the mutation in the genes in your sperm. Their Sparks have a code sequence like DNA and, well..." Mikaela felt like she wasn't explaining it as well as Ratchet or Bumblebee could. "...there you go. Optimus says that when he died and came back, the Primes told him a new Prime would emerge from humanity and that he'd be the one who helps it happen."

Sam jabbed his fork into his slice of ham and took a bite. The muscles in his jaw flexed and twitched while he chewed. "Is she half robot? Like...cyborg?"

Mikaela shook her head. "She's a hundred percent human except she'll be born with all the knowledge of the All Spark in her mind."

His eyes narrowed. "So she's gonna have meltdowns like I did...all the time?"

"I don't know."

"This is...this is just way too weird for me. Mikaela, I don't think I can keep getting mixed up in this. What if she comes out retarded or something?"

That made her balk. "You  _can_  just walk away."

"Tch. Every time I try, something else pops up. 'Bee is great, but I want my life back. My  _normal_  life. We got captured because I came up here. Kinda makes me feel like us coming together just asks for another run-for-your-life mess." Sam cleared his throat and went on. "Maybe we shouldn't really see each other anymore. If we're broken up now, let's really break up."

"Whatever, Sam." She made a face, too mentally exhausted for a fight. "If you want to b--" She almost doubled over at a tiny foot smashing into her ribs.

Sam jumped into a kneeling position. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm--ow! Elita!" Mikaela rubbed her side, "Not the ribs!" She sighed. "Every time I eat, she kicks right there. Maybe she doesn't like the noises my intestines make."

He relaxed, sagging again to sit on the floor. "What's that feel like?"

"Like a bucking bronco tap dancing in iron boots." Mikaela said.

Sam started to grin. Then his eyes focused on the TV and widened. Mikaela followed his line of sight. It was an episode of  _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. The one where Captain Jean Luc Picard became Locutus of Borg. Complete with instruments and probes meeting human flesh.

They couldn't reach the remote fast enough to turn it off.

"Back to this whole baby deal...uh..." Sam resumed picking at his food. Then he dropped his fork so it clamored on the plate and slapped his hands down on his knees. "I'm sorry, but I just feel a little bit  _used_  here. I'm trying to understand this. I just...can't. I want out of it all. I'm not made for this destiny stuff. I'm just a guy. I'm not a hero. I'm not some damn savior."

_This song and dance again?_

Mikaela ate the last of her food and laid her fork beside her plate. She wiped her face on the papery napkin that seemed suddenly too rough against her mouth. "Didn't the Primes tell you that bringing Optimus back has always been your destiny?"

Sam pursed his lips. He nodded, fidgeting with his napkin. "Optimus was there. I couldn't see him, but I felt him. He didn't want to go back, but they put his Spark into the energy of the Matrix and I had to transfer it back to his body. I feel like I'm just fate's pawn, though! I just want to know--what's in it for me?"

If it wasn't the holidays, and if they hadn't just survived a terrifying night, Mikaela would have yelled at Sam to get out. But right then her mind and emotions were too worn down for  _another_  battle. She rested her elbows on her knees and held her forehead, ruffling her hair.

"Sometimes, Sam, it's not all about us. You're still  _alive_."

His fingers--tapered with nails bitten to the quick--started to shred the paper napkin in his lap. "You're really staying with him." He stated. It wasn't even remotely a question.

Mikaela let the words slide across her consciousness. She wasn't sure he'd actually spoken. When he gazed into her eyes and lifted a brow, she realized she didn't imagine it.

"Yeah," she whispered. "We had a good run, Sam. But we're just too different now. We're going in different directions."

His face fell. Her eyes welled over.

"It's not about me being stolen from you. It's about me making a choice." Mikaela reached out and gently touched his arm. "Maybe Charley will be the right girl for you."

"Maybe." Sam glanced at her hand on his forearm. "What are you gonna tell people that ask about the baby's father?"

"As far as the general public is concerned, you're the father."

He nodded slowly without looking at her. "What hospital are you going to?"

"I'm not. I'm going to have her here."

"That's insane!"

"No, it's not. Hospitals don't let you control anything. They treat labor like something that'll go wrong at any second. I want to be in control." Mikaela glanced over her shoulder at a sound in the kitchen. Optimus was returning the leftovers to the fridge. She smiled, facing Sam again. "I also want Optimus to see it. I want her to see who he really is, not some fake hologram."

"I know...but you were nasty with that crowbar last night."

"I'll avoid sharp objects."

Sam shook his head with a heavy sigh that moved his shoulders. "What about the pain? Moms are like...screaming and stuff on TV--"

"Because it's fake." Mikaela started picking up their plates and silverware. "I think I'm safer here anyway. Who's to say there won't be a Decepticon posing as a doctor like that blonde girl?"

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"We'll deal with it. Look, Sam," Mikaela glanced over her shoulder, "You're not changing my mind."

Then she left Sam sitting by the Christmas tree and padded into the kitchen. Optimus wasn't there now--he was probably focused on his men at the moment anyway. She scraped the food scraps off the plates before setting them in the dishwasher.

Outside, sizzling and crackling indicated Ratchet was still at work welding and repairing Ultra Magnus. Mikaela glimpsed Optimus' feet walking past the kitchen window. Her bedroom was in that direction. She got the dishwasher going and, upon returning to the living room, noticed Sam wasn't there.

_I guess he went upstairs to talk to Optimus_. Mikaela thought. Going upstairs proved tempting...but she decided not to. Sam and Optimus needed to have their talk without her nosing in.

Another, quieter sound called her attention. Mikaela traced it to the front door. Tying her robe shut, she braved the cold and walked outside. The air itself stabbed her skin with a thousand needles, but she gritted her teeth and took the abuse.

Bumblebee was sitting right next to the patio. The second he noticed Mikaela there, he lowered his battle mask and turned away, holding his throat. He used his radio rather than speak:

_"My shattered dreams and broken heart_   
_are mending on the shelf..."_

It was a really old Brian McKnight song. Mikaela recognized it only because she heard it on the radio all the time as a kid.

"Aw, 'Bee..." Mikaela reached out and touched his door-wing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bumblebee shook his head without looking at her. He hardened himself, hopped onto his feet and retracted his mask. Two seconds ago he looked too miserable to live and now he was smiling. Mikaela realized why when Sam poked his head out the door.

"Optimus said Ratchet's done with Ultra Magnus and ready to scan you." He didn't even hint at any other aspects of their conversation. His face stayed composed, though the downturn in the corner of his lip caught her attention before he reached for his winter jacket.

"Be right back." Mikaela hurried upstairs to put on some pants. Painful experience over the last few minutes had taught her not to go out in the snow without pants under a robe. She pulled on her boots and returned to the living room, her sore legs complaining at her to stop before she reached the bottom of the stairs. "You coming?" She struggled into her coat and opened the front door.

Sam fiddled with the zipper on his coat. He seemed to take forever, so Mikaela just stepped onto the deck without him. Ratchet's chartreuse feet stood out against the white snow piled around the mailbox.

"Can you do this scan through all these layers of clothes?" Mikaela's breath fogged in the moist air.

Ratchet's expression softened, but Sam still took a few steps back when the Autobot knelt down to regard her. "Your clothing won't interfere. I do apologize for the wait. Ultra Magnus required immediate repair."

"It's fine. I would've helped if you'd asked."

"No. Energon is dangerous to your skin. One drop would have killed you or caused a miscarriage. You are lucky none touched your skin during your capture. That may be mostly due to its short half-life upon exposure to oxygen."

"Guess so." Mikaela said.

Ratchet's pupils narrowed into bright pinpoints and he held out his arm so what he scanned appeared on the holographic display just above his wrist. Now that she wasn't scared out of her mind, Mikaela could really pay close attention to the details in the glowing blue image.

Elita was sucking her thumb, her expression serene. She floated around, upside-down, and didn't seem to know or care. Her nose tipped up like a button. She had little hands curled into fists and twitching toes attached to the tiniest feet. The umbilical cord touched her leg and her toes flexed right before she kicked it. Mikaela felt it as a strong impact next to her ribs. Aside from being small and skeletal, the baby within her looked completely human now. Nothing like the tadpole blob Mikaela saw the first time Ratchet scanned her belly.

"I'm going to pan over to the placenta..." Ratchet's voice didn't intrude on the moment. The image moved to the mass on the back side of Mikaela's uterus. "I'm not detecting anything foreign. Not even a nanite. It's safe to say the probe inserted into you was completely removed. Your fetus is in no danger."

_Now_  Mikaela could relax. She smiled in thanks.

Sam was staring. His eyes were saucers and his voice came out hoarse. "Is she really that size, or is the picture bigger?"

"That is her actual size. Approximately twelve inches in length."

Mikaela giggled at Sam. She couldn't help it, the sugary weight in her chest compelled her to laugh. "Go tell Optimus to come see this."

"Optimus? Oh, right. Just a sec."

It only took a few seconds before she heard Optimus' joints hiss in the cold. All the Autobots seemed to make louder sounds in cooler air.

"What is all the excitement?" asked the Autobot leader.

"Come see the baby," Mikaela grinned at him.

Optimus raised an eyebrow--obviously not quite understanding the importance of this--and lowered himself to one knee. His eyes focused on the image hovering above Ratchet's wrist. Then it hit him.

"That is...remarkable. And in just...is it twenty weeks since conception?"

"Yeah. Twenty-two weeks if you go from the date I last had a period." Mikaela grinned at Sam and Optimus. It felt  _great_  sharing Elita with them instead of having her existence remain a mystery behind the skin of her growing belly. Now Optimus would know what caused all those bumps and ripples, and maybe it'd help Sam not see her as too dirty to touch.

The next thing Mikaela knew, Ironhide, Bumblebee and Ultra Magnus were all crowded around to observe the tiny image Ratchet projected. Each metallic face showed wide-eyed fascination. Nobody spoke a word. The silence became so absolute that when fresh snow began to fall, Mikaela could hear the whispering sounds of it hitting the ground.

"Elita..." Optimus spoke softly. His optics glowed with something beyond the LED's inside his irises. "Look closely, everyone. Everything we've ever lost is something she is dreaming about. Our past, our present and our future...she has it all, and one day she will share it with us."

.o

Sam left before Mikaela woke up the next morning. No goodbye, no warning, just an empty living room downstairs. He didn't even neaten up the blankets on the couch where he slept.

_It seems like he takes two steps to growing up and falls three more behind into immaturity_ , she thought silently while tidying his mess. Getting all the dirt off took almost twenty minutes with the hand-held vacuum cleaner. The sheets and pillow covers went into the washing machine, and it clunked away while she wiped off the coffee table.

"Sam apologizes for leaving without saying anything." Optimus almost startled ten years off her life. "He said it was too difficult to remain here."

A distant siren sounded. Mikaela gripped the arm of the couch until it faded without ever coming up the road to the cabin.

"There is a wreck three miles down on the main road." Optimus volunteered, which let her relax and continue cleaning up.

"I kinda don't blame him. It's still annoying. I didn't even get him a gift." Mikaela folded the blankets and slapped them onto the cushion. "He hardly wanted to touch me. I'd bet you fifty bucks he thinks I'm a freak now. Does he think he can pretend it all away?"

Servos whispered as Optimus stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. They were comforting, a frame of confidence. "It isn't easy to get over a relationship. I do understand, but..." He set his chin against her temple, leaving her wondering when his metal body stopped feeling so foreign. "...Sam believes he's no longer needed by us or by you. In a sad way that is the truth, but the Decepticons may still attempt to use him against us. That is why Bumblebee still wishes to remain his guardian."

Mikaela chewed her bottom lip. "He cares a lot about Sam."

"It is a love that will never be reciprocated."

_That_  explained everything! Bumblebee being distracted the day of their capture, his crying by the shed and his pretending to be fine whenever Sam appeared. She twisted her head to look up at Optimus, fixing his eyes in her peripheral vision. "Then why does he stay, if he knows he won't have what we do?"

The face plating brushing her temple tensed in a robotic smile. "Because he is so selfless that all he cares about is Sam's happiness. It's why he tried to bring you and Sam together. I think..." He rumbled in amusement, "I honestly think Bumblebee was trying to understand how romance works on this planet."

Bumblebee made a choice. One that possibly led him into pain and misery--and maybe even neglect. Mikaela didn't know any humans who would do something like that. It was an aspect of Cybertronian love she couldn't wrap her brain around.

"That's cute." Mikaela rested her palms over the hands on her shoulders. "But sad, too."

Sunlight from the southeast poured into the giant windows, causing Optimus' hands to blaze white and leave streaks whenever his fingers moved. Mikaela stared out at the puffy gray clouds shifting above the trees like ships adrift in an azure sea. Just as her own heart had been, once.

"I'm gonna go make some pancakes. Want any?" Mikaela added the last part by habit, and didn't catch herself until she'd already said it. "Um..."

"That would be messy." Optimus winked at her.

And the days began to melt into each other from there.

Being in the snow meant the Autobots were wet most of the time. Being wet most of the time meant they got dirty. Optimus wasn't nearly as shiny as he normally was, and Ultra Magnus' white looked black-splattered. Ratchet and Ironhide were lower to the ground, and thus their fenders and tires got  _filthy_.

On Christmas eve, Mikaela treated all of the Autobots to a wash and wax--even Optimus and Ultra Magnus--while the inside stereo system blasted Christmas music by Mannheim Steamroller. The project took all day and used enough wax to make Mikaela consider buying in bulk, but her friends expressed a lot of gratitude for the free cleanup.

She went to bed bone tired. Her sleep was fitful and dreamless. It seemed like she'd just laid down when...

"Mikaela."

"Mm..."

"Mikaela..." Now the voice moved to her ear, rumbling in ways she couldn't ignore. "Wake up. There was an unfortunate accident with the Christmas tree downstairs, and I'm not sure how to repair it."

"Mm--what?" Mikaela was up and in a bathrobe faster than she could blink. She almost vaulted over Optimus to race barefoot to the banister overlooking the living room.

The fireplace was lit, making the room look inviting. Presents were piled neatly under the tree--all wrapped in red paper, topped in gleaming gold bows and arranged from largest to smallest. Mikaela stared in disbelief. Something crackled under her hands. She pulled a post-it note off the railing. Optimus' handwriting greeted her:

_Merry Christmas, Mikaela. Open the smallest gift last_.

Mikaela's eyes watered as she tip-toed carefully down the steep staircase. She'd never seen a Christmas like this before. Her life had always been a lone pine tree branch propped up with a C-clamp on top of the TV set. It looked so sad with a few chipped ornaments making it sag while nothing but dust and its own needles piled up underneath.

Her first gift was a box of infant bodysuits in shades of pink and purple. Some had cute sayings on them and others had beautiful flower embroidery. Another present was full of adorable baby dresses in varying sizes.

Mikaela began to acquire quite a pile of baby clothes--socks, shoes, matching outfit sets and the sweetest little blue sailor's dress she'd ever seen.

One present had a battery-operated breast pump, bottles and nipples inside, probably Ratchet's idea. That made her blush and giggle. A really heavy gift box was full of cloth diapers with Velcro closures, baby powder, something to stash dirty diapers in on the go and a fresh changing pad.

Finally, when Mikaela's heart started to burst in gratitude, she reached for the last package. It was smaller than her hand and very light, the paper gleaming with her reflection. Optimus joined her in the room while she carefully tore the paper off the black velvet box. She glanced up at him before pulling up the lid and gazing inside.

Something glistening stared up at her in the form of gold and silver wire. It was the glyphs for her name in gold, Optimus' name inside it in silver and Elita's name below them in both gold and silver. The symbols had been sculpted, literally melted and  _sculpted_ , and set atop a sturdy platinum ring. From top to bottom the combined symbols were a quarter of an inch long. She turned the ring over and saw the Autobot symbol on the top-inside of the band, and three glyphs decorated the bottom on the outside.

"They say 'freedom, justice, peace.'" Optimus told her.

"Optimus..." Mikaela gasped and covered her mouth. "How did you--"

"Ask no questions." Optimus placed a fingertip on her lips, smiling. "All I will say is this is what I was doing in the kitchen the day you saw me scramble to clear the table."

"I thought you were ironing."

"I...was using the iron."

Mikaela giggled, her heart fluttering in her chest. He made her feel so giddy.

"I-I love it. Nobody makes jewelry like this on Earth." She leaned over, hardly able to believe how the gold and silver wires were practically wrapped around each other in a loving embrace. It was identical to the engraving on Optimus' Spark chamber--even down to the striations and delicate carving lines. The details probably ran to the microscopic level.

"You said once that it is customary for those wishing to remain permanently together wear a ring. I cannot wear a ring because transforming would break it, but..." He took the ring from her hand and delicately slipped it onto her left ring finger. Then he clasped her hand between both of his, his blue optics looking deeply into her eyes. He'd had her name engraved on the top of his left ring finger. "Merry Christmas, Mikaela."

Mikaela's face was on fire. She'd never  _had_  this before and almost didn't know how to respond to such selfless kindness. Her throat ached. Tears welled in her eyes. She kissed his mouth plates and slipped her arms around his waist. His whole body caught the sunlight in such a way that just his edges shimmered like the feeling within her heart.

"You're great, you know that?"

His gentle laugh was right in her ear. "Aw, shucks," he winked. "Elita seems to approve of her gifts."

"Or she wants me to eat breakfast." Mikaela kidded, rubbing the moving mass of her pregnant belly. She hung a bit of gold ribbon on Optimus' ear finial. "I need to get dressed. Stay there and I'll be right back."

"I'll wait right here." Optimus replied. He shook his head in an almost cat-like motion to dislodge the ribbon.

Mikaela patted his chest plates and nipped upstairs. Paper rattled as Optimus cleaned up the aftermath. Changing was a quick maneuver--wriggling into a long, black skirt and a knitted red turtleneck. She left her hair down since Optimus seemed to prefer it that way. Her makeup stayed simple; she just dabbed on a little foundation, eyeliner and red shimmer lipstick. It'd wear right off once she ate, but the effect would be nice when she came downstairs.

"Wow." Optimus said upon her re-emergence. "Red is definitely your color, Mikaela."

"It works on you, too."

She slid past him and gathered the ingredients for pancake batter. He stood right next to her while preparing scrambled eggs and bacon--somehow, he could cook them together in the same pan and the flavor resulting was something that needed to be packaged, patented and sold.

"For somebody who can't smell or taste, you make some damn good food."

He laughed. "It's simple mathematics."

"I noticed." She elbowed his side. "Your simple mathematics are blocking the burner dials."

They made the most fattening breakfast in the history of mankind. Optimus played upbeat Christmas music while Mikaela ate. Then they danced to it in the living room--and  _then_  the others brought their holograms inside and they all played a rowdy game of pool in the loft. Ironhide won.

Mikaela took a nap in the early afternoon because she was still tired from the previous day. When she woke up, the cabin had gone quiet, it was dark out and gentle snow fluttered past the window. She smelled food.

The lights were off downstairs--except for the Christmas tree and a lone red candle on the dining room table. She found, of all things, a hot turkey sandwich with asparagus and a baked potato on the side.

"I was just about to come wake you," Optimus emerged from the kitchen.

"It's fine," she replied. "That food looks great."

He was such a gentleman...or was gentle-mech a proper term?...when he pulled her chair out for her to sit.

"Why did you go to all this trouble?" Mikaela couldn't resist asking. Optimus didn't strike her as the type to just meld right into a culture, yet he'd been doing so right before her eyes. He'd been as wonderful as...

"I do believe it's customary to carry the female over the threshold of a new dwelling..."

"Yeah. When people get married."

_"We might as well be."_

"Because you mentioned never having a nice holiday like this." Optimus' voice brought her gently back into the present. "And..." He seated himself across from her, his face just a shape in the candle-light, "After a lifetime of struggle, I believe you deserve something nice once in awhile."

She almost cried into her turkey sandwich.  _Damn hormones_.

The food tasted wonderful--every flavor was in the right place and she couldn't put into words how she considered that sandwich better than any fancy meal found in restaurants.

Reaching out, she rested her left hand over his since he'd laid it on the table. Her ring and his newest engraving glittered in the light cast by the candle.

"Do you ever feel weird about us?" Mikaela rubbed the joint in his middle finger with her thumb. "Be honest."

Optimus blinked slowly and the two little plates beneath his eye sockets scrunched briefly, his equivalent to wrinkling his nose in thought. "At first, yes...I must admit I found it a little strange. My greatest concern was inadvertently injuring you. Sometimes, it still is."

Mikaela recalled how easily he'd crushed a piece of metal on the aircraft carrier bringing them back to America.

"I like to think I'm over the 'weirdness.'" Optimus went on, smiling. She noticed he did that a lot more often, too. "Now, I just see someone strong, intelligent and possessing all the qualities I find attractive. Besides, in the end, every atom making up our bodies came from the heart of a star. We're all made of star dust, Mikaela." He toyed with the ring on her finger. "That in itself makes us alike."

He had a point.

"We're all made of star dust." Mikaela repeated. "Do you think we came from the same star?"

Optimus rubbed her fingers with his thumb. "It's entirely possible."

"Then--" she gasped at the intrusive foot smashing into her spine. "Someone's awake."

Laughing, Optimus leaned over and tapped his finger on the exact spot Mikaela felt the kicking. "Merry Christmas, Elita."

Mikaela leaned back, pushing her fist against her left side. "How about kicking your placenta instead of my kidneys, huh?"

She felt Elita stretch out before kicking that same painful spot again.

Optimus tapped his finger along the top and right of her belly. "This way, Elita. Your mother's right kidney hasn't been kicked yet."

"Hey!" Mikaela snapped in mock anger.

"The bruises need to match, right?"

"Oh, that helps." Mikaela made faces at Optimus. "By the way..."

He looked at her, "yes?"

"Did you ever see a supernova while out in space?"

"I've seen a few, yes...they are spectacular and  _silent_. The stars look normal on the outside, save for an envelope of gas and a complete lack of surface storms. One moment it is fine, and the next..." He brought both of his hands together as if cupping an invisible snowball and suddenly spread them out again, "...it brightens and swells like a balloon. Supernova explosions happen very quickly. Blink, and the star has gone from normal to a ball of fast-moving gas rushing at you. It is less like an explosion and more like a bubble blowing itself larger and larger until it fades away. In fact..."

Optimus set his hands down and shook his head. He started to laugh.

"...when Megatron and I were younger, we snuck off to a world whose sun was on the verge of a supernova. Megatron thought it had one more day. So we were...uplinking, and..." He covered his face in one hand and slapped the tabletop, "the star's core temperature shot up right as we finished. It was a scramble to get off that planet, and our father slapped us both for our behavior. Megatron and I laughed over it for millennia. 'Remember the overload that destroyed a sun?' we used to say."

Mikaela joined Optimus' laughter. "Sounds like you two had a wild run."

"Oh, yes. We did. We were troublemakers." Optimus calmed down and reached for Mikaela's plate. "I'm sure raising Elita will be interesting if she's anything like us. Rebellion seems to run in our families."

Mikaela snorted at that. "As long as she stays out of sex, booze and drugs, I'm fine with her being wild. Besides..." She flinched, "she's already a wild child."

Elita was still wiggling about when Mikaela got herself ready for bed. She couldn't lay on either side because that made her feel the movements more, and resting on her back too long made her legs tingle.

"Perhaps I have a solution," Optimus said. "I'm looking at it on the internet right now."

"Use it, please," Mikaela groaned back.

He scooted down so his head rested right in front of her belly. Cupping it with his hand, he began to recite, "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse..."

His soothing voice put Mikaela to sleep before he'd gone halfway through the poem.


	13. Chapter 13

Weeks began to pass into each other so fast that Mikaela would've lost track without a calendar. She fell asleep before midnight on New Year's eve and spent New Year's day mopping all the floors.

Her stomach started to pop out in the middle of January. By Valentine's Day, she glanced at herself in the mirror and realized she looked like someone who swallowed a basket ball. She carried high, too, so the backaches and hip-aches and indigestion became her best friends again. At least the morning sickness didn't return.

If that wasn't bad enough--nowadays, she panicked almost every time she heard sirens or saw police cars on the road. Logically she knew Barricade likely wouldn't show up again, but fear never obeyed logic.

And then there was the matter of winter not giving up its hold on the forest.

Mikaela woke to chilly air and howling wind blowing snow against the bedroom window. Optimus rattled the chain screen on the fireplace when he added more wood.

"The electricity is out. Weather reports indicate blizzard conditions," he said. "Ratchet and Ultra Magnus are working on getting the generator running. Ironhide is scanning the area for Decepticon activity. I'll be joining him. Will you be all right?"

Grogginess made retaining all that more difficult than usual. Mikaela wiped the goop from her eyes and sighed. "Great, power outage. Yeah...stove's gas. I can make my own breakfast. Are you guys gonna be okay in this cold?"

"Ultra Magnus and I will shelter on the back side of the cabin. Ratchet and Ironhide will hunker down behind the shed."

"There's tarps in the basement, you know. I could cover--"

" _You_  aren't setting foot outside in this." Optimus told her sternly. "We'll be all right. It isn't as cold as the Arctic Circle here."

"But, you guys--" Mikaela glanced up when the numbers on the TV cable box suddenly clicked on, indicating success in getting the generator running. "--might get buried in snow."

"We can just transform out. Don't worry."

Mikaela knew she'd never argue her way into helping them. She sighed and let Optimus turn on the Weather Channel to monitor the storm.

_So much for those solar panels_. Mikaela thought huffily.

The shed outside was aluminum and housed equipment for maintaining the lawn--a drivable lawn mower, chainsaws, shovels and gardening tools. The wind made it creak the way Megatron's joints did--and Mikaela kept cringing at the sound.

She went downstairs bundled up in sweats, a bathrobe and heavy-duty slippers, and even then the nippy air bit her fingertips. Warmer than outside, yet still uncomfortably cold. The snow blowing past the large windows looked like fast-moving white fog. She couldn't even see the huge pine tree less than ten feet away. Black feet--Ironhide's--struggled towards the side of the house with the shed. Further off, she could just barely make out Optimus shielding his optics from the snowy onslaught. Only when Ironhide was out of view did he transform and take cover against the cabin wall.

Mikaela heated up some oatmeal for breakfast and decided to stay upstairs as much as possible.

_That_  storm buried the front door in snow. It took Ultra Magnus a long time clear a path Mikaela could take in an emergency. Mikaela insisted on helping Optimus dig Ratchet out when the snow proved too tightly packed for simply transforming to break free. Ironhide fared better because he'd been between Ratchet and the shed.

"I'm tired of this cold!" Ratchet groused once he'd been freed enough to transform.

Mikaela sympathized. Snow was fun at first--until it melted all over the house, left her clothes wet and, if it was dirty, created nasty spots that took forever to mop up.

Of course...there  _was_  the afternoon Mikaela spent shoveling snow off the path leading up to the cabin. She'd built up a considerable pile when Optimus drove up and knocked it over, unknowingly destroying her hard work. Miffed, Mikaela grabbed two snow piles in her hands, smashed them together and hurled the snowball. It splattered on Optimus' windshield.

"I just spent all day on that!" She scowled at the silver grill of the Peterbilt.

And since the first snowball exploded so nicely, she flung another one.

Optimus' hologram popped up just at that moment. The snowball hit him full in the face, turning all his grooves white. He wiped his eyes, spat snow out of his mouth and looked down at her.

"Well, if that is going to be your negotiating strategy..." Optimus shook himself and bent over, scooping the snow into his palms. He didn't throw as hard as Mikaela did, but his snowball was bigger.

"No, I'm gonna--ack! Oh, that's it." Mikaela patted snow off her jacket and rolled another pile between her gloved hands. "You're dead!"

"Don't be so sure of yourself." Optimus smiled roguishly. He easily dodged her snowball and chucked one of his own, splattering her black jeans in white.

Mikaela built two snowballs. She faked to the left and threw right, and caught Optimus' whole chest. He slipped on a bit of ice, his body making a crackling noise as he landed on his back in a snowdrift. Mikaela hurriedly pushed a whole bunch of snow on top of him. Optimus erupted from the pile, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her down. They collapsed together, laughing, wet and a little chilly around the edges. He climbed on top of her, pinning her down. Her belly, though quite large now, still hadn't become a huge obstacle.

"One advantage to metal...it is this." Optimus bent over, moving Mikaela's scarf and rubbing his freezing cold face against her neck.

"AAH! No!" Mikaela shrieked between waves of laughter. "Truce! Truce!"

He chuckled and let her breathe, and she realized she still had a snowball in her left hand.

She smashed it against the side of his head.

Optimus' whole face pinched. He wiped the snow off, opened one eye to look at her and laughed, burying his face against her chest.

"You never fall without a fight."

"I didn't get this far in life by being a passive little waif," she grinned.

The air between them almost became tangible. Mikaela watched the steam from her breath curl against Optimus' mouth plates. His face and eyes were gorgeous against the winter colors surrounding them--crystal blue skies, white snow and brown branches framing everything.

He'd just started leaning down when...

"Ultra Magnus rolled off the road. He is in too public a location to transform," Ironhide rounded the corner. "Optimus, you're the only one with enough traction and horsepower to tow him."

Optimus didn't look at all annoyed, though his hesitation to get up indicated he wasn't pleased with the interruption. "This matter needs immediate attention, but go inside..." He leaned over, whispering in a tone that gave her visions of fire and thunder, "...and I'll put you to bed when I return."

Mikaela felt her face heating up despite the freezing air.

Optimus got to his feet, his body glistening in the sunlight, and offered her his hand. He smiled at her, but a hint of darkness appeared within his optics. The passion they shared reached out to her as surely as the stainless steel fingertips waiting for her grasp. Mikaela took his hand and let him help her regain a vertical base.

Ironhide kept his back to them while he transformed. Optimus' engine clattered to life, and his parting shot upon leaving was to spin his tires and spray snow all over Mikaela's torso.

"You are going to GET it when you come back!"

He laughed and pulled onto the road.

Twenty minutes and a shower later, Mikaela waited in the bedroom, wearing nothing but the blue bed sheets.

True to his promise, Optimus appeared not long after she'd settled down. They had grown so acquainted with each other that his touches no longer held any hesitation, and she stopped asking him if she'd caused pain. Both knew what hurt, what didn't, what felt good and want didn't work.

They weren't gentle that night. Optimus took off his outer chest plating before joining her on the bed. He could still get between her legs and lean over her growing belly, but she knew this would likely be the last week they'd be able to make love face to face. The fireplace caught flashes of metal meeting flesh, darkening azure gazing into steel blue and streaks of sweat on glass. She felt his mouth follow her throbbing pulse while her fingernails traced the fiber-optic network surrounding his Spark chamber.

Watching Optimus overload in the light of the fireplace made the sore back she'd have later worth it. Mikaela fell back afterwards, panting, and smiled up into his optics. They were hypnotic, dynamic--and they pulled her in!

She plummeted through wiring and electrical impulses until she crashed into a sea of infinite white. Data streams and glyphs surrounded her, each pulsing like a Spark. The Prime closely resembling the Fallen loomed above her, a dark spire against the brilliance all around. His blue optics gazed gently at her from the unreadable plating of his face. The metallic "whiskers" running along his head rippled as if blown by a light breeze.

The Prime extended his hand towards Mikaela. Mikaela leaned away from the intimidating claws.

"What do you want from me?" she asked the apparition.

"To  _see_ ," he said. He was speaking a musical language she couldn't discern, yet somehow understood perfectly.

"Which one are you?" Mikaela glanced nervously at the clawed hand still too close for her liking.

"Prima." He replied simply.

And from his hand sprouted the same family tree flowchart she'd drawn months ago. Each Prime except the Fallen had descendants--but the names faded until Optimus' line remained.

"I was the first. Then Prime Nova. Then Sentinel Prime. Then Optimus Prime. Then..." Prima's claws lowered to brush her stomach.

"Elita."

"And all others were lost to the Fallen. Many generations..." He turned his head and Mikaela recognized sadness in his glowing eyes. " _Lost_."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Prima looked back at her. He smiled--or his eyes gave that impression. "Because mercy is in your genes. Because you are the answer. You chose the question and you became the answer, and you will  _be_  the answer until all are one."

Try as she might, Mikaela couldn't figure out what he meant. She reached into her hair and grasped her scalp, massaging away the headache trying to form.

"Dammit," she fought down the frustration building in her stomach. "I'm trying to understand, but I don't."

"It began when Spark and blood met."

Cupping her in his hand, he moved his other arm and she saw Earth many thousands of years ago. Human beings clad in fur were climbing on and picking at one of the dying Primes. They all ran away when he moved...except for one. A little girl Mikaela swore was her younger self stayed behind. She had a fresh, bleeding cut on her hand at the time her gaze fell upon the pulsing Spark--and out of curiosity the girl plunged her injured hand into the light. The wound on her palm sealed itself instantly and her brown eyes turned brilliant blue. She sniffed her hand, shuddered and continued onwards only to discover no mouth in which to empty the animal-skin pouch of water.

Time went on. The girl started drawing glyphs in the dirt. Then she reached adolescence--it didn't take long for her to get pregnant. Her child was a girl, born with blue eyes, and she also scribbled in the dirt. That child's daughter did so as well--every generation produced blue-eyed girls who scribbled until the markings evolved into Egyptian hieroglyphs and, even later after a migration, the glyphs appeared on Chinese oracle bones. Written language came from Cybertron just as modern technology did, and it was because of  _her_  ancestor.

Mikaela watched her family line grow. Blue-eyed girls, generation after generation. The genetic map stretched on and on until Mikaela saw her own image staring back at her. Laid out end to end, the lines of genes stretched as long as the data code from Prima to Optimus.

At the point where Mikaela and Optimus' names joined the line, they met.

The whole structure transformed into a spermatozoa cell swimming towards an ovum. A bead of blue-white fluid drifted in its path, and the sperm cell swam right into it.

"With the Fallen as a threat, the Prime line could not continue as it had...but I ensured it  _would_  continue. The seed is in your genetic history--" He took her again to the girl trying to give the dying Prime a drink--and it had been Prima. "--waiting for the last Prime."

The image of the spermatozoa cell zoomed in several thousand times, letting her see first the X chromosomes, then the DNA itself. Mikaela witnessed a surge of energy slamming into a shimmering DNA helix, causing it to unravel and turning the cell nucleus into a soup of...it looked like the Spark plasma Ratchet took from Optimus.

"Physically your people are different from Cybertronians, but the plasma within our Sparks contains the materials found within your genetic structure--Adenine, Thymine, Guanine and Cytosine. And when Spark plasma meets All Spark energy..."

Lightning bolts smaller than molecules pulled the DNA helix back together, grabbing onto stray strands of genes floating in the plasmatic soup. Most of them weren't Sam's. The strand reformed loaded with shining blue genes like the one present in Mikaela's genetic map. Sam's unused materials were literally cast out of the sperm cell as it dissolved its way into Mikaela's ovum. The altered chromosomes joined hers and conception happened as if nothing went amiss.

"...it creates  _life_  in whatever form it must to survive."

"I never touched Optimus' Spark plasma! I'd have to douche with it to get anything like that  _there_." Mikaela balked at the ancient Prime. "I've never had any up in my--"

"You did."

"When?"

Mikaela wished she hadn't asked. Prima showed her how Optimus died on the battlefield--Megatron stabbing him from behind and blowing his chest out. Gouts of orange fire, purple energon and bluish-white Spark plasma shot up into the air. As Optimus fell like a toy without strings, he bled from his chest. Sam's shoes were splashing in it, coating his shoelaces and pant legs. He'd bent to tie his shoes when he got out of Bumblebee. He went to the restroom, unaware of the substance still present on his hands. Then, on the aircraft carrier, he had sex with her before they both showered.

"Samuel was destined to ensure the survival of the last Prime. You are meant to bring forth the next--"

"But human lives are so short!" Mikaela cried, "Optimus is going to be around a lot longer than the human race. What's the  _point?_ "

"Your worlds need a bridge to coexist. One that understands both the human and the Cybertronian." Prima regarded her and his metal whiskers rattled, making an unnerving hissing noise. "Every bridge requires a path to reach it. Paths stretch both ways, and you chose to build the bridge."

Mikaela's vision shifted to Elita inside the safety of her womb. The baby was curled up and contentedly sucking on her fingertips. Suddenly, she clenched her fists, her face twisting in a soundless cry.

"Never let the Decepticons take her life." Prima stood up.

"What if--"

But Prima was gone, and Mikaela jolted back into reality as Elita's foot slammed into the bottom of her ribs.

"I just felt a strong kick. The fetus is fine, and--" Ratchet's voice sounded above her head. "Mikaela! Can you hear me?" He shined a fingertip light into her eyes.

Mikaela squeezed her eyes shut. Her head buzzed with the after effects of a migraine headache. "Turn off the light. Hurts."

"Oh, thank the All Spark," Optimus took her face in his hands, fixing her in his familiar blue optics. "Mikaela...I thought I'd--"

"I'm fine!" Mikaela glanced between Optimus and Ratchet. "I went somewhere weird. I saw...oh hell, let me clean up would you? I need to think."

She rolled off the bed before they could stop her and bolted into the bathroom. Her throat had fading red marks where Optimus bit her skin with his mouth plates.

Mikaela splashed cold water on her face. Her eyes stung and her vision started to saturate. She grabbed the soap bar off the dish, climbed onto the bathroom counter and scribbled symbols all over the mirror. It happened so fast--she couldn't see any of what she wrote. Her hands just moved, writing in quick, even strokes.

"Mikaela--" Optimus froze in the doorway. Ratchet mumbled something about his hologram, but a gesture silenced him.

"One of my oldest ancestors ran into your oldest ancestor." Mikaela heard herself saying while she drew. The mirror was huge, giving her a lot of room. "P-P-Prima, one of the first. And a girl who looked like me. She tried to help him after the Fallen left him dying--Optimus, turn on the shower! Hot water! Somebody c-close the door!"

Ratchet shut the bathroom door in the same instant Optimus twisted the red spigot inside the shower. Mikaela kept on drawing as steam fogged the mirror, revealing everything she'd scribbled with the soap.

It was the same sequence of genetic material and Spark data patterns Prima showed her.

Mikaela clutched at her head, but shifted to grab her belly the second she felt herself falling into darkness. When she woke again, she was lying on her left side in bed and cloudy daylight turned the bedroom window brilliant white. Elita jolted into motion, kicking the breath out of Mikaela's lungs.

"Guh! Elita, stop that!" Mikaela rubbed the top of her bulging belly. More earnest squirming commenced, and she did her best to rub her unborn baby's back. "Must be that pizza I ate last night. Guess you hate green peppers, eh, kiddo?"

She looked down at her stomach, watching the outlines of feet and arms move across her skin. Optimus came up with a clever term for it: Belly quakes.

Mikaela made a face when Elita kicked her diaphragm again. Last night's events floated back to her conscious mind. Did she dream the whole incident? She was about to chalk it up to a crazy nightmare until Optimus' voice filtered through the open back door:

"...it said my real father was Sentinel Prime."

Ironhide spoke up, "Jetfire mentioned your helm design closely resembles Sentinel's--"

"Yes, Ironhide, but so does Ultra Magnus', and we aren't related."

Footsteps walked past the bedroom window. The conversation continued right behind Mikaela's head.

"What is this about a primitive human female touching one of the first Primes?" Ironhide asked, though it sounded more like a demand for answers.

"Mikaela and I shared a vision, apparently..." Optimus kept his voice low.

Ironhide didn't bother controlling his irritated tone, " _And?_ "

"Everything that has happened between Mikaela and I appears to be something my ancestors laid out long before we ever existed. The clue is hidden in the text of the genetic line: 'A Prime will come from the warrior-faced female.' How can we argue about it when her very  _name_  is coincidentally a word in our language?"

"She is human! You are Cybertronian!"

Mikaela pulled on an oversized T-shirt and peeked out the window in time to see Optimus shoot Ironhide a deadpan look.

"Since when are we bound to our own kind?" he asked.

Ironhide's shoulders shifted in a shrug. His mouth plates tilted up slightly, forming a robotic sneer. "It just doesn't seem natural. She's a threat to us, Prime! Ultra Magnus tells me the Decepticons know the same information you've just told me. The child's life will never be out of danger at this rate, and that puts  _you_  at great risk."

"Elita may very well be the first plank in a bridge that brings humans and Cybertronians together."

"Exactly my point. You might as well paint a bull's-eye on her aft."

"Ironhide!" Optimus barked, silencing the Topkick. "Everything is already in motion. It's been in motion since the All Spark created the first mechs to walk the universe. Every choice I have made led me to Mikaela. Every choice Mikaela has made led her to  _me_."

They began to walk again, passing slowly out of earshot.

"So you mean to tell me that everything is already decided for us?"

"No..." Optimus shook his head. "More like..." But the rest of what he said faded into the distance.

Mikaela crawled back into her warm bed and huddled under the sheets.

_I got in the car that night_ , she thought.  _That was my decision, and that is why I'm here. Fifty years from now, I'll be telling Elita I had the guts to get in the car. Now I'm doing something that matters to more than this world_.

"...I'm happy that Optimus is happy, Ironhide." Ratchet's voice was barely audible.

Ironhide huffed. "I'll accept this when the kid actually does something for our kind. Until then, she'll be annoying. Period."

Later, when she watched Optimus cup her belly in both hands like a fragile egg and smile up at her, Mikaela knew she had no regrets. Getting in the car  _was_  the right choice.


	14. Chapter 14

The months slowly fell away. Mikaela's belly grew until she swore it needed its own zip code. She exercised as much as her body allowed, keeping her muscles toned to get a head start on losing the baby-weight after Elita's birth. Optimus was great about telling her the real nutritional content of the food in stores--during the last three months she'd been eating a lot healthier and that helped her shed excess pounds.

The best part of it all? She only noticed stretch marks right around her hips. Her stomach never turned into a road map--but she did have a long, dark line running from her belly button to her pubic hair.

"Careful, you're going to knock Earth off its axis," Optimus joked to her once when she had trouble getting up off the couch. He only made jokes after she made fun of her own size in his presence.

She smacked him upside the head. "Yeah, and the tsunami I cause when my water breaks is going to knock your ass over."

Optimus laughed and helped her up. "I'll carry flotation devices. So, feel like rice tonight?"

Long walks along the forest paths also became a commonplace activity. Optimus increased his hologram's range to two hundred yards--the length of two football fields--so they could wander a good distance before his real body played catch-up. Mikaela loved the simplicity of holding his hand while they strolled in and out of the sunlight.

"On Cybertron, there were forests of metal spires built by my ancestors." Optimus told her on one hike.

"Were there plants like this?" Mikaela asked, brushing her fingertips over a low branch.

"No. And no wild animals, either...though I did once build a motherboard that walked on six legs like an insect. It was smart enough to fetch like a canine." He chuckled, giving their arms a light swing. "For the life of me, I can't remember what happened to it."

The idea of Optimus having a pet during his 'childhood' was charming.

By the middle of March, Mikaela got tired of being pregnant. Her hips were loose, causing her to waddle, and she couldn't sleep in any position other than her left side--and that was when she got any sleep at all between trips to the bathroom. Sometimes walking up and down the stairs left her breathless until the baby finally dropped, freeing her diaphragm.

Ratchet scanned her once a day. Her amniotic fluid levels were normal. Elita was full-term, her head was engaged in Mikaela's pelvis and the placenta looked great. Everything became a waiting game.

A  _long_  waiting game...

.o

Mikaela woke up on the first of April--her due date according to Ratchet--to tightness in her stomach. She rubbed her hips and paused at a gnawing pain in her back. When she felt three in the space of thirty minutes, she sat up in bed with a frown. Braxton-Hicks contractions  _never_  made her back ache, so she walked around. The contractions didn't stop--and Braxton-Hicks always went away when she got mobile. Mikaela excitedly began timing the pains as she waddled through her morning business. One trip to the bathroom made her long for the luxury of Imodium. After that, the ache in her back sped up and became regular at five minutes apart and lasting nearly a minute. She paced, holding her lumbar area and taking slow breaths to stay calm.

Another hour passed. Mikaela was about to walk out onto the balcony and tell Optimus the news...and then the contractions stopped.

"Oh,  _nice_  April Fool's joke, Elita." Mikaela touched the dome of her belly. Disappointment made her stomach drop--she'd been planning her day around her labor! "You're going to do this to me all day, aren't you?"

"Mikaela?" Optimus had noticed her at the doorway and came closer to the cabin. "Have you started your labor?"

"No. Elita is playing April Fool's jokes on me." Mikaela made a face. "Could you make me some oatmeal and sausage?"

He blinked, then smiled. "Cravings again?"

She nodded.

"I'll take care of it, then. And  _you_..." Optimus ever-so-gently reached up and touched Mikaela's stomach with his index fingertip, "...don't tease your mother."

It was so  _cute_  how he talked to Elita. Mikaela hoped Optimus and Elita would have a close relationship that went past race and bodily make-up.

And so the day continued. Mikaela spent it getting annoyed at her body--she ate an entire package of cherry Fig Newtons in one sitting, her hips ached and Ratchet kept telling her: "Your cervix is at one centimeter, right where it's been since last week. The only major change is that you are fifty percent effaced now, and the head is firmly engaged in your pelvis. I'm detecting an increase in oxytocin, estrogen and prostaglandins. Your labor will begin within the next fort-eight hours if your levels continue at the rate they are rising. Though yours tend to peak and fall, so it's possible you might need another week."

Mikaela groaned and closed her eyes in dismay. She was ready to have the baby! Walking around with sensations like a bowling ball hanging halfway into her vagina didn't exactly feel wonderful.

Optimus was immensely patient. He gave her back massages, hip massages, leg massages and foot massages--and never complained. Not even when she asked him to trim her toenails and then muttered about the annoying click of the clippers.

"Here we go again." Mikaela groaned as another contraction squeezed her spine.

She spent the rest of the afternoon washing throw rugs, scrubbing the upstairs floors and cleaning out the corner Jacuzzi in her bedroom.

By the time Mikaela went to bed that night, she was too tired to care that her body kept faking her out. Now she felt contractions every twenty or so minutes, though they weren't strong or consistent. The sensations had changed, too, as a result of spending all day on her hands and knees. She was feeling the same tightening she felt in her pelvis at the start of her period--not quite painful, but present enough for her to take fleeting notice until sleep caught up.

Mikaela dreamed heavily of symbols and the mysterious, dark figure of Prima. He reached out in her dream and gently touched her belly with his clawed fingertip. She felt him smile.

Her eyes snapped open to the red numbers on the clock bolted to the wall. Five o'clock in the morning. Everything stood still, as if the world held its breath in anticipation for something wonderful. Her Native-American grandmother sometimes said everything stopped to watch the Earth give birth to the Sun. A peaceful time as calm as the stillness before a storm.

Optimus' hologram reclined behind her--he hadn't come online yet. His manifolds were rattling faintly in a mechanical snore, which indicated total relaxation.

Mikaela stretched and got up to use the toilet. Her nether regions were slimy when she wiped, but she thought nothing of it and spent a little more time cleaning off. There was a little blood in the toilet. She noticed the same annoying tightness present when she went to sleep, except now it was incredibly strong and had a twinge in the middle. Gas pains mixed into Braxton-Hicks. It had to be! She took a few gulps from the water bottle she kept by the sink before going back to bed.

Sleep wouldn't find her again.

She laid there for sixty minutes and watched the clock. Another squeeze came at five twenty-eight. Again at five forty-eight.

_Damn_. Mikaela gave up on sleep. The weather outside looked nice. Chilly, though not enough for a robe. She pulled a sweater on over her gray tank top and ventured onto the deck in just her old socks. The dimness made her purple pajama bottoms look black. Cool spring air wafted sweet smells towards her from the forest.

Mikaela leaned on the railing. The trees east of her were just sparse enough to see the melon-colored horizon growing brighter. A few puffy clouds turned paler until the sun burst over the distant mountains. Mikaela rubbed her stiff lower back. Another tightening made her belly as hard as her forehead. It came on slowly, as if giving her plenty of warning before peaking and falling away. She wrinkled her brow, glancing down at her stomach. Outwardly it didn't look any different. Elita was wriggling like a little bag of worms.

Drinking water hadn't made the Braxton-Hicks stop. Getting up hadn't slowed them down. Even her false labor gave up when she started scrubbing the floors.

Why did she feel so jittery?

When the sun hit her, she felt sudden rush of sugary swelling behind her breastbone. Something she got as a kid the night before truck shows. A feeling that made sleep almost impossible because she might miss something.

_It's the real thing_. Mikaela breathed out.  _This has to be the real thing...but how can it be so gentle?_

She padded all the way around to where Ratchet was parked by the front door. "Ratchet? Are you awake?"

"I am now," Ratchet rocked on his wheels.

"Could you run a scan?"

"Certainly."

Mikaela instinctively stood still while warmth trailed along her body. She smiled, "I'm in labor, right? For real this time?"

"Your hormone levels are all in the right places and your cervix is one hundred percent effaced and dilated to two point five centimeters. So...yes." Ratchet had a smile in his voice, "You were asleep when your levels peaked, so I'd say everything is well established. Congratulations."

"Thanks." She chuckled. "It doesn't really hurt right now. That's so weird! But I better get back and handle the last minute stuff."

"Let me know if you need assistance."

"Will do."

Mikaela couldn't avoid the giddy excitement welling behind her breastbone. She was going to meet Elita today!

The doorway leading inside was a dark rectangle in the wood. Mikaela closed the door behind her when she entered and peered over at the recharging mech stretched out on the bed.

Optimus looked so peaceful when he slept. Too peaceful to wake just yet. Mikaela flopped to sit on the bed and watched him. He didn't even twitch when her weight jiggled the mattress. Normal moving around wouldn't wake him up, but if she said his name, shook him hard enough or made a certain amount of noise, he'd be awake in a heartbeat. Unlike a human, however, he could go right back to sleep if inadvertently awakened. Something Mikaela often envied.

This particular morning, Optimus was asleep in an amusingly human pose: on his stomach, one arm folded beneath his head and the other lying in the space Mikaela previously occupied. His left leg was bent and his right foot dangled off the foot end of the bed because he was longer than the mattress. He never used a pillow--his cheek rested directly on his forearm. It looked mildly uncomfortable, yet he always assured her he had no problem recharging that way. Robots were weird.

Mikaela stripped her lower half of pajama bottoms and underwear--panties would just get ruined when her water broke anyway--and changed into a pair of loose black shorts. Then she braided her hair so it wouldn't get in her way later.

She crept downstairs to munch on a cereal bar, but discovered she was out. Miffed, she peeled an orange, devoured it and waddled back upstairs. She climbed back onto the bed, bouncing it a few times on purpose, but Optimus didn't even flinch.

Her contractions made her pause when she sat motionless long enough to take notice. They were still only as uncomfortable as a full bladder--annoying, though not quite painful. Knowing they  _would_  hurt later on sent lines of trepidation creeping up her spine.

_No. Don't worry about it until you have to_.

She'd just turned away when Optimus' servos whirred. His pleasant voice broke the silence:

"This isn't a normal hour of operation for you. Is everything all right?"

"Yup." Mikaela piled the garments she'd discarded into a mesh laundry bag and decided she'd do the wash to pass the time. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Optimus pick his head up to look at her. She went on, "Did my bouncing around wake you up?"

"Ah, no. My rest cycle completed early. Yours, however..."

"I'm kinda in labor right now." She grinned at him. "That makes it hard to sleep, you know."

Optimus blinked at her. He stood up and very gently embraced her. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah." Mikaela sucked in a breath. She placed his hand on her belly while it was hard as a rock. "That's a contraction. Now, I want to get the laundry done and go to that little twenty-four hour place between Stater's and that bridal shop. I need more of those apple-cinnamon Nutri-Grain bars. Got the Gatorade, forgot I was out of those."

"I will prepare breakfast for you. You concentrate on what you must do." Optimus said, and brushed his mouth plates against her brow. "Making another human being is hard work."

He said the same thing early in her pregnancy. Hearing it again made everything feel full-circle.

"I better get going before things get intense." Mikaela patted his chest and headed downstairs to the laundry room. She heard Optimus clanking in the kitchen. Moments later, the smell of eggs turned her stomach over in hunger. Or was it a contraction? She didn't know or care!

The laundry seemed to take forever. Mikaela paced around in the stuffy room while making an effort not to check the clock.

Optimus poked his head in, "Breakfast is ready."

"Are there any--"

"--I put a blueberry muffin on the side, yes. It's the last one."

"You're awesome." Mikaela grinned. She waited until the spin cycle before trading the sweaty hot laundry room for the cool, dry kitchen. Nobody could salt scrambled eggs like Optimus. He did it so evenly that she never took a single bite that didn't have perfect flavor.

"Your contractions seem regular at twenty minutes apart." Optimus watched her from the sink.

"How can you tell when I'm having one?"

"You curl your toes."

Mikaela tried to fool him by  _not_  curling her toes for the next one.

"Now you're frowning."

"Oh, be quiet!" She flung her napkin at him, laughing. The blueberry muffin was on the verge of getting stale, but it still tasted great. She washed her own dishes.

Optimus moved the laundry to the dryer while she brushed her teeth and shaved her legs. Her hands quivered a bit, making the process take longer than normal. It meant she finished in time to bring a basket of warm, clean-smelling clothes back upstairs.

_Stay active. Don't stop and think, don't try to time anything_ , she kept telling herself. Her contractions were getting closer together, she could tell that much. They still didn't hurt more than an uncomfortable twinge, like an invisible belt wrapping too tightly around her lower pelvis and spine.

Once everything was put away, Optimus' hologram disappeared and Mikaela climbed into the shiny red and blue Peterbilt waiting near the front deck.

Vibrations made the hour-long ride towards the mini-mart  _suck_  on so many levels. Mikaela felt every little bump and shift, and they caused her back to hurt!

"Easy on the dips!" She growled.

"I am making every effort not to jar you." Optimus replied calmly.

"Then make this red light hurry up and turn. I've gotta pee."

They finally arrived in the parking lot of the tiny gas station store. The drive only took an hour, yet to her it felt like eons. Mikaela nearly climbed out of Optimus before he'd achieved a complete stop. She practically ran inside, got the bathroom key and relieved her bursting bladder. It didn't help the aching caused by the ride, but it gave her one less thing to worry about. The idea of getting back into Optimus made her take a bit longer in the mini-mart.

Morning was in full swing by then. Warm, golden sunlight beat on the eastern sides of buildings. Heat reflection made the everything seem hot in the sun and chilly in the shade.

Hiding indoors so much made Mikaela's tan fade, so her skin was paler than she'd like. Or did nervous excitement cause her slight pallor? She stood still in the aisle, chewing her thumbnail and staring blankly at the box of Nutri-Grain bars she wanted. Just reading prices became unusually difficult during a contraction. Relaxing wasn't easy when the next bout of tightness made her body tense in anticipation of pain that never quite came.

_Okay, that one definitely lasted longer than the last few I just had. I need to get my butt moving before_ \--

"Wow, when are you due?" asked the blonde, perky shop-keeper who barely looked older than sixteen. Her nametag said  _Anne_.

Mikaela eyed the girl over her shoulder, smiling. "In early labor right now, so today."

"Ohhh! Congratulations!"

Glancing back at Anne was like glancing back in time. Mikaela saw herself before Optimus, before Sam. Life had been almost simple then, a line of well-worn routines. She'd grown up before she was ready and never knew the stars would bring her someone wonderful.

Mikaela shook herself out of her own head. She grabbed three boxes of Nutri-Grain bars and leaned on the counter while Anne rang up her purchase. Those little twinges at the peak of her contractions were gradually turning into a stinging ache. Just strong enough to give her pause. She asked for the bathroom key again before reluctantly climbing back into Optimus' cab.

"Okay, they're starting to hurt." She said upon buckling her seat belt. "And it's gonna hurt no matter what you do, so just get me home."

Optimus' air brakes released with a hiss as he backed away from the building. "Shall I put on the radio to take your mind off your discomfort?"

"No. Please, just--" Mikaela grabbed the wheel and wiggled in her seat. Talking during a peak took more effort than before. "--drive, okay? And now you can start timing contractions."

"Twelve minutes apart and forty-seven seconds in duration. That is your current average over the last hour." Optimus eased out of the driveway leading towards the main road. "Perhaps now is the proper time to utilize the breathing exercises we've been practicing."

"Mm." It seemed far too early for that, but Mikaela inhaled slowly through her nose and let it flow out of her mouth. Deep belly breaths meant to relax her pelvis. "I hope--we get back--before they're five--minutes apart."

Breathing helped a little, but made it harder to talk. She almost kicked Optimus' gear stick when he took a dip a little too fast and sent an invisible knife straight up her butt.

"Ugh! Watch the bumps!"

"Sorry. I will warn you from now on."

Optimus held to that promise. He gave Mikaela enough notice to lift her bottom off the seat each time he passed over a bump, dip or pot hole.

It seemed like they were stopping every ten minutes so she could squat and pee on the side of the road. So embarrassing, but she told herself if anybody saw her, it wasn't likely she'd ever see them again.

The vibrations from Optimus' jakes tempted Mikaela to kick his gear stick again. She reigned in her mildly sadistic thoughts by snapping up the plastic bag and gripping the door handle. The second Optimus' air brakes hissed next to the cabin, she climbed out.

"Ratchet, scan me!" She called. A little rudely, but she wasn't in any mood to apologize for her brusqueness. Her yell alerted Ultra Magnus and Ironhide, too, sending them along with Ratchet. She stood surrounded by a forest of legs.

Ratchet knelt and eyed her. Mikaela sensed warmth along her midsection.

"You are three centimeters dilated."

Mikaela's stomach dropped. Her back stung. " _Only_  three?" She told herself not to get discouraged, but to go through a horrible ride both ways and find out all those hours made so little progress...she thought she was much further along than that!

"Didn't you once mention long labors ran in your family?" Ultra Magnus asked, squinting at her belly.

"Have somebody cut your arm off again and spend all night welding only a few inches at a time, and you'd be annoyed too." Mikaela made a face. "Ugh...I'm going inside."

Behind her, she heard Ratchet's voice: "Try not to take it personally. A change in demeanor is normal..."

The clock above the TV set read eight-fifteen.

Mikaela dumped her purchases on the counter and opened the fridge. Those sour grapes looked tasty. She put the whole bag of them in a bowl and turned on the TV. _Jerry Springer_  was on. People were already throwing chairs.

"Now  _that_  activity suits your mood," Optimus whispered in her ear, startling her slightly. He'd formed his hologram without a sound.

"Aah!" Mikaela growled at him for scaring her. Then she got over it and went on, "Actually, knocking over mailboxes would feel better than tossing chairs." She ate another grape. The sourness almost burned her tongue.

Optimus rubbed her shoulder by way of apology.

Mikaela got up to put the grapes she didn't eat back into the fridge. Then she reclaimed her position on the couch and fought back the butterflies in her stomach.

"Sorry in advance if I get bitchy. I'm not a nice person when I'm in pain."

He sat beside her and patted her knee. "I won't hold what you say while in pain against you."

Such a small reassurance that put her mind right at ease. Just having him close helped her relax.

They spent the next half hour watching men fight like animals over who had the hottest mistress. Mikaela kept zoning out as her contractions got stronger and closer together. Somehow they went from tightening she barely noticed to a strange, quivering tension she could feel coming on; they weren't quite the same dull pain as menstrual cramps like she'd often heard. The sting would crescendo into a feeling like the healthy burn of an exercising muscle, hold for several heartbeats and gradually "cool" away to nothing. In her head she pictured the pain as a faint star collapsing into a bright ball before dimming and inflating again.

Mikaela didn't recall when she got up to bend over the back of the couch. Doing it felt right. She let her eyes blur and her mind drifted into images of that contracting star. Optimus was beside her, his hand resting lightly on her lower back.

"Phew," she resurfaced from inside her mind, "they're getting stronger."

"I noticed."

Mikaela's attention shifted between the TV and the cushion she pressed her face into whenever her back tightened. She channel surfed between contractions to distract herself.  _Spongebob Squarepants_  was on, but Optimus didn't quite understand the humor. She wasn't in the mood for it either, and tried the Science channel. _How It's Made_  was on--a show detailing how everyday items were built.

Ironically, this particular episode detailed the construction of a Peterbilt. It said something about metal beams and the parts being assembled upside down, flipped over and the wheels attached, but Mikaela didn't catch the rest.

"Mikaela," Optimus turned to her, and his eyes twinkled humorously. That gleam in his eye indicated what he said next was meant as a joke, "I hate to say this, but your world is barbaric."

"And yours isn't? You guys--" she forgot what she wanted to say when she leaned instinctively forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. He gently embraced her, his warm metal fists applying counter-pressure against her lower back. Oh, it felt  _good_...even through the pain his touch was amazing and helped her muscles stay loose.

"Shhh," Optimus brushed his cheek against hers. "Easy. Relax."

From there, Mikaela would cling onto him and rest her forehead in the gap between his chest plates during a contraction. The peak of each one came faster and held longer than they were earlier, and they made her dip into herself so often she only noticed the commercials on TV. She couldn't remember anything of  _How It's Made_ when it ended a half hour later. In fact, somehow, she missed Optimus turning the TV off and swapping it for gentle, but rhythmic relaxation instrumentals. It sounded like Feng Shui music with chimes and wind, and it contradicted everything going on inside her body. Peaceful calm versus atomic explosions.

"You're doing fine," Optimus whispered after four strong contractions.

"So are you."

He chuckled and his hands moved to her lumbar spine when she went quiet again. "Are you h--"

"Shhh!"

"Sorry."

One thing about Optimus that Mikaela loved--he respected her when she asked him to be quiet and let her focus on her own. She breathed deeply until her body released her.

"Okay. Sorry. What's my average now?" she asked because she couldn't bother with doing the math.

"Seven minutes apart and fifty eight seconds in duration."

_They ARE lasting longer_.

"This is the point where my mom went to the hospital and lost all control of her birth. Maybe if I can hack this, it'll be vindication."

"Is that what you believe?" Optimus' eyelids clicked when he blinked.

Mikaela nodded and let her forehead rest against one of his windshields. A nagging fear clung to her mind, an anchor that kept her from fully surrendering to her body. Everything she read said not to worry about anything during labor, yet she couldn't help it. What if she couldn't protect Elita from the Decepticons? What if this cabin was discovered and raided in the middle of the night? What if something went wrong and she couldn't push Elita out? What if she couldn't handle the pain? How much worse would it get?

"I'm scared," she whispered.

He began to sway gently, the motion reminding her of the night that brought them together. That would always be a dance to remember because it taught her the only difference between her and Optimus was the make-up of their bodies.

"Why?" Optimus rumbled in her ear. Oh, she  _loved_  his voice right then.

"Just...what if I can't do this? What if the Decepticons attack this place? What if--oh shit, here comes another one." And, because her body was rigid with worry, she felt it like a bad cramp all through her back and abdomen. "Ooooh."

"Easy does it. Don't fight your body." His hands massaged circles into her lower back. He kept swaying, not letting her stop and tense completely up, and went on when the contraction ended. "We're all keeping guard outside...a Decepticon can't come within three miles of this place without someone noticing. And  _you_  can handle what your body was made to do. You are strong, Mikaela. I know you can do this."

"I won't be able to move if I'm delivering!"

"We will take care of you." He tipped her chin up and made her look into his optics. "Even Starscream would have extreme difficulty reaching you. I promise, Mikaela."

Reassured, Mikaela let her mind go blank. Reality became fluid around her. Existence was nothing more than a serene sway, occasional tightness and warm hands on her spine.

Optimus was so attuned to her that she just guided his hands where she needed them and he'd massage away the tension. Sometimes she wanted to walk. He held her hands, walking backwards and leading her forward. They circled the living room at least fifty times, but she wasn't counting. If her bladder needed emptying, he stayed by the bathroom door to pick up where they left off when she emerged. He led her into the kitchen and she downed half a bottle of water. Contractions came and went, and the gentleness in his eyes helped her stay centered as her labor slowly became more intense.

Her stomach started to rumble seemingly ten minutes after Optimus turned off the TV. It surprised her when she glanced at the clock and saw it was almost noon.

"You should try to eat something." Optimus told her. "You will need the strength. What sounds good to you?"

Food? What was food again? Oh. Something one put in their mouth to make their stomach stop growling.

"Bagel and fruit." Mikaela managed to say. "Am I at five minutes yet?"

Optimus' gentle laugh teased her ear. "You have been for the last hour and a half. You're doing incredibly well."

Mikaela's mind was still clear between contractions. She nodded and hurried to the refrigerator for the jug of grape Gatorade, grabbed the boxes of Nutri-Grain bars and called out, "I should get upstairs and get everything ready. I think I'll stay up there, now, because I don't think I'll make it up if I wait anymore."

He nodded. "Do what you need to. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Her belly button felt too tight as she started up the stairs. That was her body's signal of an oncoming contraction, and they were beginning to seriously sting before their peak. She hurried towards her bedroom and pressed her face against the doorway. The star she imagined in her mind was brightening sooner and collapsing faster, and not dimming until it relaxed.

Optimus entered the room while she grabbed towels from the bathroom linen closet and laid them out across the floor in front of the Jacuzzi. They were dark blue. Two red ones were reserved for drying herself off and wrapping Elita up after her birth. A large Rubbermaid container would hold the afterbirth. The puke bucket from downstairs was just an afterthought. Optimus kindly spread a plastic shower curtain over the bed in case Mikaela got out of the tub to push. She wasn't planning on it, but she wanted to be ready for that anyway.

"You. Sit down and eat." Optimus offered her the bagel and a fruit cup with an amused smile.

"Oh, now you're giving orders?" Mikaela gratefully accepted her lunch.

"If you want me to," he said in  _that_  register. It never failed at melting her innards to mush--even now when sex was furthest from her mind.

She sat on the towels with her back against the Jacuzzi and the plate in her lap. The chewy bagel was a salty, buttery contrast to the sweets and sours of the juicy fruit. Melon tasted especially good at the moment. She finished the food in less than five minutes, and washed it down with a swig of Gatorade.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Mikaela shook her head no and got up to use the bathroom. Normally she shut the door if Optimus was in the bedroom while she took a pee. Now, she didn't care. Emptying her bladder was such an  _amazing_  relief that she stayed sitting on the toilet when her next contraction began. She felt a strange pop right behind her pubic bone and fluid poured out into the bowl. Far more than she had in her bladder.

"Wow, I think my water broke." Mikaela said when her ability to speak returned. She stood up, wiped and felt more liquid dribble out. It reminded her of the gushes she got during her period, but more watery with a vague, salty-bleach scent. Standing up made warm trickles wind down her legs. The crotch of her black shorts was wet before she even left the bathroom. "Oh, this is gross."

"Ratchet has just informed me that you are--"

"I don't want to know. I'll get upset if it's a shitty low number."

Optimus nodded without pressing the matter. "You have to wait until you are at least five centimeters before entering the water, or else--"

"--it'll slow me down. Yeah, I know, I read it, too! So I'm not at five, yet?"

He kissed her forehead. "No, but you're close."

"Damn."

Mikaela tried not to squirm at the tickling trickles oozing down her legs while she leaned over to start filling the Jacuzzi. She made sure the jets were turned off. Behind her, Optimus moved about opening the boxes of Nutri-Grain bars and arranging them for easy access.

"Could you transfer that music to my I-Pod or something? Hearing it move around bugs me."

"Certainly."

Contractions were easy to handle before her water broke. She thought she had it made.

She was  _wrong_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since someone will ask: Nope, I've never had sex or given birth. This is all written after a lot of research, reading birth stories and asking moms questions about their birth experiences. :)


	15. Chapter 15

Mikaela started another contraction and it wasn't a gentle tightness like before. Just the beginning hurt as badly as her peaks earlier. Her uterus seemed to jerk itself into a tight, quivering ball, taking her internal organs with it. The stinging ache wrapped completely around her waist and grew and grew and  _grew_  until she thought her belly would turn inside out. She dropped into a squat, not caring about anything other than surviving the blinding white hotness pulling on her consciousness.

"Ohhh...ooohhh! Oh, fuck,  _fuck!_ " She wailed, unable to let go of the Jacuzzi frame, "Optimus!"

"I'm right here." Optimus' hands settled on her lower back. She flinched away. He shifted to rub her hips instead. "Here?"

"Mm." Mikaela managed to get her knees down. She couldn't communicate that her lower half seemed on the verge of ripping itself in two. Optimus picked right up on the silent cue and gently pressed inwards and upwards on her hip bones. It didn't help much, but the safety of his hands gave her somewhere to place her focus. She dragged deep breaths all the way into her belly and let them out again. The pain slowly dwindled. Her shorts were dripping wet and clung against her skin.

"There..." Optimus' hands slowly released their hold and stroked her back. "Your amniotic fluid is clear."

"Good." Mikaela gulped air into her lungs. She'd read that labor sometimes got more intense after the waters breaking, but nothing prepared her for  _how_  much! And she still had a lot more to endure!

She checked the temperature of the water, found it comfortably warm and let the Jacuzzi fill halfway. Then she started disrobing, once again ignoring the drips on her legs. She couldn't spare the energy to feel grossed out or notice the music never got turned back on.

"Man, I think I--" Mikaela dropped again into a squat. Then she leaned backwards into a crab-walking position that made it hurt more, but she couldn't make herself move again. "Ooooh. Ungh!"

"Easy." Optimus leaned down and helped her onto her hands and knees. She grabbed onto his forearms. He supported her elbows without protest. "Deep breaths, Mikaela. Deep breaths."

"Ohhhh!" She groaned through the crushing force inside her body. Her voice rose in pitch when Elita kicked right as the pain peaked. Like kicking a bruise--it made her vision go white. "Uhhhh...ooooh!"

"You're getting tense. Relax."

"I  _can't!_  She's kicking me and it  _hurts!_ "

"I know. I know..." Optimus whispered. He massaged her hips, which forced them to relax until more pain tore at her self-control. "Come on, let's walk a little more. Are you up to that?"

"Let's try." Mikaela said. She never would have moved around without his presence guiding her. All the practice they went through  _didn't_  include pain, and pain always clouded her mind.

They walked for awhile. He led her outside--she was so inside herself that she didn't even notice her naked state until Optimus draped a robe around her--and she spent a few contractions leaning on the railing. Some trees grew so close that she could rest her cheek against their cool leaves and relish the green smell of spring.

"What's my average now?"

"Three minutes apart and lasting sixty five point three seconds."

_At least I'm making progress_ , she grumped to herself.

Ultra Magnus' white form emerged from the tree line. His optics widened at Mikaela's state and he jogged over. "Oh, my goodness! Mikaela, are you all right?"

"She is in active labor," Optimus replied.

"Labor hurts," Mikaela grunted. "It's hard work."

"I suppose it wouldn't be called 'labor' otherwise." Ultra Magnus replied. "Anything I can do?"

Mikaela, in the middle of a contraction, shook her head no. She tilted herself sideways as if to pass gas. Something inside her moved and it was suddenly a  _lot_  easier to breathe.

Social graces had completely left Mikaela's mind by then. Without a word she headed back inside, leaving Ultra Magnus confused and Optimus hurrying to follow her. She threw off the robe and drank heartily from the jug of Gatorade.

Time couldn't decide between rushing and crawling. Mikaela endured it, wondering about her progress but not willing to find out. She didn't want  _anything_ discouraging her--but she really wanted to get in the Jacuzzi!

"Oooh!"

"Stay loose. Relax your jaw. There."

Mikaela had trouble standing, but sitting and laying down made her back hurt. She was tiring fast and afraid she'd never cope if she didn't rest soon.

Optimus, bless him, found a wonderful solution. He sat on the floor, put two rolled-up towels on his thighs and hugged her against his chest. His legs supported hers so she could squat, bounce or rock her pelvis without exhausting herself, and the towels cushioned her from his metal parts. The fluid oozing from her body got all over his lower half, but he didn't care. Whenever a contraction started, he began to count the seconds softly in her ear--

"One, two, three, four..."

\--and it became a chord above her moaning. Hearing him changed her whole thought process.

_I made it to ten...I can get to twenty. I got to twenty, now I can last until thirty. I'm at thirty...I'll hang on to forty. Oh, forty...fifty can't be too bad. Oooh, it's going away now. I'm at sixty and I'm just fine_.

"Now breathe...there."

"Ugh...that was a bad one." Mikaela rubbed her face against his cheek. "Am I dilated to five, yet? I want to get in the water before I start screaming."

Optimus sat still and blinked, listening to Ratchet's response. Even as he waited, his hands moved to her belly and he stroked it lovingly with his fingertips.

"You've just reached five centimeters." He cupped her face, smiling. "It won't belong before Elita meets the world."

"Awesome." Mikaela gathered herself for the next wave.

Optimus helped her through one more contraction before she climbed into the tub. The water was  _wonderful_ , and she laid herself down comfortably for the first time since labor started. This Jacuzzi had contoured walls that hugged her body, letting her rest on her side, and the non-slip bottom meant she didn't have to tense her legs to avoid sliding downwards.

"Does the water improve your comfort?"

Mikaela opened her eyes and smiled. "A lot, yeah."

Optimus returned her expression. He twisted the lid off the Gatorade jug and poured some into a glass she hadn't seen him bring in. Then he popped in a straw and handed it to her. "Here, hydration is important."

She sipped gratefully. "Grab me a Nutri-Grain."

He did so, and held it for her while she nibbled. Crumbs still fell in the water. She splashed them away with her hand.

The tub let Mikaela relax, though it didn't ease the pain of her contractions as much as she'd hoped. Breathing deep and moaning out loud helped at the peaks. Then it helped just before they peaked...and then she started groaning the entire duration of each pain. She felt oddly peaceful in between, something like the satisfaction of a full stomach after a delicious meal. Moaning kept her memory anchored around that calm. If she could hold onto that, she could survive the pain.

Optimus helped her change positions when her grasp on that peace wavered. He sat her up and held her hands. She stared into his optics while he assisted her into a squatting position. Sometimes she swayed her hips back and forth, making the water slosh around her stomach, all the while letting the blue light of his eyes keep her tethered to reality.

They didn't talk at all unless she initiated it with words.

"Oooooooohhh...unnnngh...ow!"

"You're doing fine."

"Mmmmmmhurts."

"I know, I know..." Thumbs petted her wrists. One hand retreated.

She gripped tighter, "Don't leave!"

"I won't." Blue optics came closer and the straw touched her lips. "Here, sip."

Cold liquid on her tongue...it was as nice as the metal palm now holding onto her shoulder. She spat out the straw when another pain came, and she sank away once more.

The contractions were peaking faster and holding for longer. She heard Optimus say they were lasting closer to ninety seconds--and being in pain made that an eternity. Her faith that the aching cramp would end wavered more and more. She went from moaning to yelling.

"Here we go. One, two, thr--"

"STOP counting!"

He closed his mouth and held onto her hands. Sometimes she squeezed his fingers tight enough to make him wince.

"Oooooh, shiiiiit..."

Time passed around Mikaela like a shadow. No matter what she did or said, Optimus stayed right next to the Jacuzzi. Rarely did a moment go by where she didn't feel his touch or hear his voice. At one point she glanced up and noticed the clock said five o'clock.

_Wait, didn't I get up at five?_

"What kind of five o'clock is that? Is it morning again?"

Optimus leaned over her. "No. It's evening. Twelve hours since oh-five-hundred."

"Oh." Mikaela didn't consider the question silly at all. "Could you turn on the bathroom light and leave the door open? The lamps in here are gonna be too much."

He nodded without question and did it. Then he came back and gave her a bite of a Nutri-Grain bar. Biting was hard, so he broke off a small piece and gently fed it to her. She ate because it was there, not out of genuine hunger. In fact, she noticed she'd stopped feeling hungry for awhile.

Mikaela settled on her left side. The change made her pass gas and the water bubbled, but she couldn't spare enough energy to excuse herself. She even emptied her bladder a few times. If Optimus noticed any of that going on, he didn't say a word. He pulled the plug when the water was too murky to see through, and had barely refilled the Jacuzzi before Mikaela's next wave hit. She bellowed for its duration. Something about shifting positions kicked her labor into high gear. Her contractions came fast and hard, giving her little time after one to prepare for the next. Every coping mechanism she'd read about stood forgotten in a sea of searing agony. The peaceful thirty seconds between contractions disappeared in her mind. She couldn't find the anchor memory of calmness she held onto before. There was only suffering. Did her body enjoy torturing her?

"Ohhhh--AAH!" Mikaela shrieked when the pain abated. She tried resting on her back, then she squatted and finally rolled back onto her side, her movements splashing water out of the tub. "Dammit! AAH! I can't  _do_  this! I-I can't!"

"Yes, you can." Optimus wiped stray hairs off her cheek, and she didn't know whether his calmness was charming or irritating. "You can do this."

"Nooooo...I-I c--AAH! No more! It fucking hurts! Please, God...OHHH!"

"You're fine, Mikaela. You've come so far. You can go a little longer."

"No." Mikaela gasped. "No."

Optimus reached into the water and stroked her hip--lately that felt better than anything--but now she found it annoying. Mikaela pushed his hand away, and it returned to rub her shoulder. Each contraction was the sting of the worst food poisoning she ever had in her life coupled with something invisible crushing her spine. They never fully ended before the next one began. She started feeling them in her thighs and chest. By the next one she couldn't remember why this pain even happened to her in the first place.

"I can't deal with this," she sobbed. Cold sweat broke out on her body despite her being halfway submerged in warm water. Her eyes widened when saliva pooled under her tongue. "Oh shit..."

Optimus got the bucket to her just in time to catch the bitter-tasting bile she retched up.

"Please...make it stop." Mikaela gritted her teeth.

"I can't," he said as he rubbed the back of her neck.

"Try!" She screamed, and threw up again.

"You're in transition, Mikaela." Optimus lured her onto her hands and knees by moving the bucket to the floor, which meant she had to lean on the side of the tub to reach it. "You have come a long way."

"It huuurts!"

"I know it hurts, but it has a purpose." He stroked her cheek with his knuckles.

She grunted. No energy for anything but the most basic communication. "Need to be cooler...wet cloth."

Optimus nodded and disappeared for a moment, which made her panic. Then he reappeared and laid a wet, cold washcloth against the back of her neck. Just what she needed, and it felt  _wonderful_. She even relaxed for a few seconds while he nuzzled his mouth against her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. Then he lifted her head for her and wiped the cloth across her brow. She leaned forward and dazedly kissed his mouth plates.

More white-hot agony. That star in Mikaela's imagination stopped dimming, it just collapsed and expanded like...like Optimus' pulsing Spark.

"Owwwww!" Mikaela gasped for the breath stolen from her lungs. "Dammit, ow! Ow...ow... _OW!_  No, no, don't move away!"

"Shhh. I'm not leaving. I'm right here."

"Unnnngh! Ooooh!"

"Easy, easy. Breathe. Slower now--that's it."

"I'm done! I can't...I...I--AAAH! Please, God, I can't!"

"You can. You're doing so well." His voice was in her ear, and the sound of his soothing calm did more for her than he'd ever realize. Somehow, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her hot cheek to his cool metal one. He helped her sway her hips back and forth in the water.

"I feel like I'm dying," she cried. Her body would not stop shaking between contractions.

Optimus petted the back of her head. "You aren't dying. You're bringing Elita into this world."

"I c--AAAAH! OHH!"

"Breathe, Mikaela."

"FUCK breathing! You have the baby!"

Rather than answer that, Optimus just swayed side to side, prompting her to follow him and somehow find her way through the forest of hurt. No matter how deeply she went in, he always found her and brought her back out.

"Don't leave!" She grabbed his arm when he leaned back an inch.

"I won't." He touched the straw to her lips. "Sip a little--there you go."

She puked the Gatorade up during her next contraction. He wiped her mouth for her and stroked her back while she dangled her upper body against the Jacuzzi's edge. She felt his mouth plates brush her ear and shoulder. Even the sounds of his servos whirring offered comfort.

"Do I look shitty?" she panted.

"You're beautiful." Optimus smiled.

Her body stole her again, and she endured. She closed her eyes and half-dreamed of Prima leaning over her. The ancient Prime said something in Cybertronian--she understood it as the word  _soon_.

Mikaela glimpsed her distant ancestor rearing back and roaring, her swollen belly rock-hard with contractions. She began to do the same. Her voice filled the bedroom, a song without lyrics, and somewhere inside the sound she found a dark, powerful nirvana in which she could hide from the worst of her pain. Let the agony rage like a hurricane--her voice was its eye, and the eye was a calm, safe place. She was in control again.

And she wasn't alone.

Optimus held her hand and let her yell all she wanted. He never told her to be quiet, he never even flinched at the noises she made.

Every few pains, she had urges to empty her bowels. It was fleeting, but the last rational corner of her mind knew it meant Elita would be in her arms soon. She clung to that hope as tightly as she did Optimus' fingers.

"Breathe." His voice stayed right by her ear. "Easy now...almost done...there. Here, try another sip of this."

Mikaela accepted the straw and drank heartily. She didn't feel nauseated anymore--and thirst overrode her concerns about vomiting again. The Gatorade wasn't cold, but it tasted sinfully delicious. Her mother, a nurse, taught her that Gatorade tasted the best when one's body truly needed it.

"Ahhhhh!" She yelled against another tightening in her pelvis. "I feel like her head's up my ass!"

"What an interesting sensation  _that_  must be." Optimus chuckled into her cheek.

"It's not funny!"

"It will be later."

"Whatever! It sucks right n--AAH!"

The clock said nine o'clock when Mikaela's body finally gave her a break. Everything was dark except for Optimus' optics and filtered light coming from the bathroom. She wondered if her labor was all part of a distant nightmare. Memories of agony told her otherwise. She rarely remembered pain from dreams. This was real. Elita would soon be resting in her arms.

Optimus drained and re-filled the Jacuzzi with fresh, warm water. He met her eyes and winked.

"Welcome back." He said. "Congratulations, you've survived transition."

Mikaela made a face at him when she sat up and moved the barf bucket out of sight and mind. "Where are the cereal bars?"

He gave her one. She tore off the wrapper and devoured it. Then she took a swig of Gatorade and relaxed on her back, floating slightly in the water. Her stomach thanked her by not turning over, causing heartburn or expelling anything that dared enter.

"God, where did the whole day go? I barely noticed the time going by." Mikaela wiped at her forehead. Her belly button tingled as it had in early labor, but the contraction she felt wasn't quite  _painful_...just uncomfortable. Something inside her body shifted positions ever so slightly.

"You were occupied." Optimus trailed a hand in the water. Mikaela interlocked their fingers.

"I can't believe this is almost over. I'll miss everything but the morning sickness and her kicking me in the ribs."

Almost on cue, Elita wriggled about as if in protest having her warm environment rocked with noise and pressure. Mikaela didn't blame her.

Another soft contraction came and went. Mikaela pursed her lips before sitting up. She kept feeling twinges like an impending bowel movement coming and going. Assuming a squat position made it stronger. Mild urges became a bowling ball ready to fall out of her backside. Mikaela's body bore down on its own. She grunted, wiggling into a better position so she could support herself by leaning back against the Jacuzzi's corner.

"Are you pushing?"

"Mmmgh!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

She grunted once more, then breathed out. "Come in here with me. I want you to catch her."

Optimus stepped over the lip of the tub. There was plenty of room for him to kneel in front of her. His optics actually lit the area enough that she discarded her ideas of lighting the fireplace.

Mikaela's belly caved in and she went with it. Her body called the shots--she just obeyed its signals. She pushed as if on the toilet and stopped whenever the urges dissipated. Every few pushes, Elita shifted down another inch. Progress  _was_  taking place...albeit slowly.

"How's her heartbeat?" Mikaela asked.

Optimus' hand touched her lower belly. "She's fine." He reached back to refill the Gatorade glass and offered it to her--she only took a few sips before pushing it away.

A  _huge_  'oh-my-God-I-have-to-poop-NOW!' feeling came over Mikaela. She sucked in a breath and bore down with all her might, helping her body do what it was already doing on its own. Incredible pressure formed somewhere deep in her pelvic region. She paused, gasping, before giving in to the next urge. Every push hurt almost as much as her transition contractions, but now she could truly  _do_  something about it.

Optimus wiped her forehead and chest down with the cloth. He'd cooled it with his hands, but his fingers were warm again whenever he touched her skin. The cool felt amazing. She gestured for the Gatorade and he gave it to her. It was wonderful to push when and how she wanted to--so much nicer than the idea of having doctors tell her when while people held her feet up.

Mikaela rested for awhile despite the urges to bear down. "Wow, you're not freaked out yet?"

"This is actually a fascinating experience." Optimus tilted his head to regard her. "Most of what I witnessed was not in the childbirth videos I observed on Youtube."

"You're going to see that part here pretty soon."

He patted her knee. His eternal patience constantly astounded her.

Mikaela grunted and dug her heels into the bottom of the Jacuzzi. She really knew things were moving when she couldn't squeeze her inner vaginal muscles. Her body kept trying to, instinctively, like it did while sitting on the toilet. "Oh! I think her head's coming down...aah! AAH! Pressure!"

"Easy now." Optimus gently probed her nether regions, but didn't dip in more than a fingertip's length. "I don't feel her head yet."

"Ooh!" Mikaela growled and threw her head back. It was complete trust in Optimus that let her make noise without fear or embarrassment. "Aaaaah!

The pressure she felt grew stronger, like a cement balloon expanding its way downward. And the second she relaxed, it retreated like a fist yanked back into a sleeve. The same thing happened again for several more pushes. But each time, the hardness retracted a little less.

"How good can you see in the dark?"

"I have engaged my night vision, so I can see quite clearly."

She hadn't even noticed anything different about his eyes. Wouldn't they glow a different color? Obviously not.

Optimus placed his finger back at her entrance. Or, rather, she led his hand there. It gave her somewhere to focus her pushes as she bore down again. Some contractions came on so hard that she pushed three or four times.

"Oh my..." His optics blinked and widened. Excitement made his voice rise a half tone higher than usual. "I feel her head! Mikaela, I feel her head!" He leaned forward and touched her forehead with his. "She's almost here."

The excitement was contagious. Mikaela's heart pounded when she released her breath and rested her brow against Optimus'. She had the urge to rock her hips a little, so she did. The pressure inside her coupled with the movements transformed her pain into something she couldn't describe. It felt like...bliss. Emotionally, mentally, she swore she was having an orgasm. The pain she experienced seemed somehow distant and purposeful. She only needed to surrender.

And so she did.

"Ohhhh!" Mikaela tossed her head back again and roared. Her entire world became the single point around Optimus' fingertip. She gasped, pushed and gasped again. Push, release, push, release.

"Take your time," Optimus whispered. He placed her hand right next to his finger. She felt soft hair. Elita's head!

The water wasn't cold, yet Mikaela shivered anyway. She placed her arm back on the edge of the Jacuzzi and focused once more on bearing down. Suddenly, a sharp stinging sensation slammed into her crotch. She let out a yelp, "Shit, that burns!"

"Keep pushing." Optimus stuck his other hand down into the water. She could feel him massaging the delicate skin of her perineum to protect it from tearing. It felt nice--and then she pushed and it stopped feeling pleasant.

"It  _burns_ , dammit! AAH!" Mikaela lifted her backside up and the veins in her neck stood out in sharp relief. So much for the incredible ecstasy she experienced earlier. She waited for the sting to die off before working with the next contraction. The burning came again, a fiery ring glowing blue-white in her mind. No way to escape except to push through it.

"She's crowning." Optimus' warm metal fingertips continued to manipulate the skin around her opening. "Oh, Mikaela...I can see the entire top of her head. Remarkable!"

Mikaela grunted, "A slimy baby's head is remarkable?"

"Definitely."

Knowing birth was imminent gave her courage, and she inhaled deep as she bore towards the ground with all her might. Searing pain created flaming circles all centered around a tiny point between her legs. She thought of nothing beyond making it stop, and pushing was the only way.

Glyphs flashed through her mind. Amidst the pains she saw all of Cybertron being born and dying. Mechs rising and falling. She witnessed Optimus and Megatron sliding out of metallic pouches and opening their eyes for the first time. She saw them fall in love and fall apart. She saw the flaming death of Orion Pax--and young Optimus on his knees, staring at the ruins of his home. He was crying--his last cry until the night of her prom eight million years later. Then she watched the All Spark flying off into space, crashing into Earth and being thrust into Megatron's chest. Burning, razing...slowly expanding until Mikaela thought she'd rip in half. Her vision flickered between reality and Cybertron like two television stations polluting each others' signals.

The Matrix of Leadership floating above seven pairs of metallic hands...

"Easy...relax."

...stars exploding into brilliant white...

"Here it comes."

...life coming from a purple glow...

"Oh, Mikaela..."

...and the Matrix of Leadership landing in human hands.

"Her head is out," Optimus announced, snapping Mikaela back into reality. He moved his finger just inside her entrance, checking the baby's throat. "Hold on a minute. The umbilical cord is around her neck--Mikaela, it's tight. Don't push!"

Exactly the words Mikaela did  _not_  want to hear. She couldn't stop her body mid-contraction!

"I can't help it!"

"Breathe. I will attempt to dislodge the cord."

The movement of his fingers around tissues stretched nearly to the maximum stung like salt in a wound. Her body screamed while her heart thudded. Another urge came and resisting tore away her last energy reserves. She just wanted it over.

Something moved, and then Optimus said, "I've freed the cord. It did not require cutting. She's all right, Mikaela. Push whenever you're ready."

"I'm so tired," Mikaela panted. This wasn't as easy as she'd imagined. She rolled her head side to side, loose strands of hair sticking to her sweaty face. "I don't know if I can...I don't--"

"Yes, you can. You  _are_." Careful metal lips touched her brow. "I'll catch her. Don't worry."

"Gatorade."

Optimus grabbed the glass and she took several mouthfuls. Then she spat out the straw and gathered herself up.

Elita's shoulders were still inside, acting like roadblocks. Mikaela feared she'd tear all the way up her butt if she pushed again, but she closed her eyes and made herself do it anyway. The tiny body in her birth canal twisted and twitched, searing her the whole way.

"AAH! OW! OW!"

" _Push_ , Mikaela. She's almost out."

"Fuck pushing! You push!"

"Sorry, I can't put her back."

"Shut up! You're not the one shitting a watermel--AAH!"

Somehow, Mikaela felt her body stretching more than she imagined possible. The stinging burn dulled only slightly. She strained with all her might, desperate for it to be over.

"Relax your buttocks." Optimus said as he repositioned his hands. Hearing him say that would've been funnier if he didn't accidentally pinch her clitoris between his ring and pinkie fingers. Usually that felt nice, but it didn't then! The poisonous look Mikaela shot him moved the hand faster than a sharp word. He rubbed her leg, "Sorry."

"Do that again and you--mmmgh!-- _will_  be sorry!" she snarled mid-push. "God, how much more?"

"Her shoulder is right against your pubic bone." Optimus told her. "One more push. You can do it, Mikaela."

"Promise?" she panted.

"I promise." He reassured her. "One more."

Mikaela held her breath and put all her strength into her next push. Something inside her shifted downward and wiggled like a wet fish. She felt Optimus guide Elita's head towards her butt and then forward, helping her shoulders emerge. One shoulder slipped free like a bump. As soon as the second shoulder emerged, a large part of herself was dislodging, pulling away, and suddenly--relief! All the pressure, pain and glyphs disappeared in a gush of liquid slightly warmer than the Jacuzzi water. Mikaela sagged backwards against the wall, panting in exhausted reprieve.  _She's out, she's out_...

Optimus straightened into a kneeling position with a small, floppy white form lying facedown in his hands. He rubbed Elita's back until she squirmed, coughed and squawked in protest. Almost magically, her color went from white to healthy pink. Optimus' servos whirred as he turned her over, cupping her head in one hand and her bottom in the other. Elita's eyes fluttered open and blinked before gradually focusing on his.

Time stood frozen. They were gazing at each other like old friends meeting after a long separation.

Optimus smiled.

Elita appeared to smile  _back_.

"Hello, Elita." Optimus whispered, and his voice actually trembled. He cradled Elita on his forearm and stroked her waxy, vernix-smeared cheek. "You'll never believe this, but--" He closed his eyes in a slow blink when she grabbed his fingertip in a tiny fist. His optics misted until they overflowed. He moved his finger up and down, shaking hands with her. "--I'm so glad to finally meet you, too."

Tears blurred Mikaela's vision. Elita was only in this world for thirty seconds, and she could tell how much Optimus already loved her.

"I might be fascinating, but your mother is amazing. Would you like to meet her?" Optimus smiled again. He bent forward and laid Elita on Mikaela's chest. Elita suddenly balled her fists and screamed her head off, each cry gurgling less as she cleared her airways.

Mikaela couldn't find words--what should she say to someone so new to everything? She embraced her daughter and nuzzled her cheek against the baby's soft forehead. All that pain for someone so tiny, and she'd already forgotten the agony.

"...hey." Mikaela's lips quivered when Elita peered up at her between mewls.  _That_  life came from  _hers_. She knew, right then, that she'd go through the pain again and again if it meant repeating this moment. "Happy birthday, kiddo."

Elita's cries stopped again at the sound of Mikaela's voice. She smacked her lips and pursed them while taking everything in. 'So THIS is the outside world,' her expression seemed to say.

Mikaela sat there, amazed at how alert her baby was. Elita's soft, slippery skin was cooler than the air, but she quickly warmed up as Mikaela held her close.

"Elita..." Mikaela wiped a bit of birth goop off Elita's nose. There was a splotch of vernix on her forehead that gave her face the cartoon-like impression of a frown. "God, you're so little. Do you have toe thumbs like me?" She checked the baby's hands and noticed her fingers seemed square-tipped. Mikaela's fingers were slightly short and tapered. Sam had long, tapering fingertips. That meant...

_Heh, you have Optimus' hands_. Mikaela rubbed her thumb over Elita's tiny knuckles. The hand moved to grab her thumb. Elita's grip was strong.

"Six pounds, six ounces and nineteen inches long." Optimus shifted in the water. "She looks like you," he went on, moving to sit beside Mikaela. "We named her well. She's  _beautiful_ , Mikaela..."

Mikaela smiled and kissed Elita's forehead. Elita hiccupped and wouldn't relinquish her grip on Mikaela's thumb. It made Mikaela giggle. "Well, Elita. Wild ride or what?"

Elita crinkled her face up like she wanted to cry again, but changed her mind and yawned. She started turning her head to the side. Mikaela felt her trying to suckle, so she shifted her over--and was surprised at how easily the newborn opened wide and latched on.

Breastfeeding was a downright  _weird_  feeling. It caused her to get menstrual-like cramps and a sensation of fullness in her pelvis. Mikaela moved her leg and gave a little push, and suddenly the placenta oozed out in a small gush of pinkish blood. It felt like a hot liver against her legs. She used her knee to sort of push the rubbery umbilical cord and slick placenta off to the side.

Optimus leaned over and studied Mikaela's breasts in a way that might have offended her in the past. His face softened into a smile. "You're so perfect." He slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. "Thank you for this experience."

Mikaela's throat ached. She leaned on Optimus and hugged Elita closer, adoring how she nursed with one tiny hand covering her eyes. Just looking at her daughter made her heart swell.  _I still can't believe you were inside me for all nine months, Elita. You're so cute...and so special. Do you even know why you exist?_

The moment would have been more pleasant if Mikaela could ignore the weird, meaty smell surrounding her. Like exposed guts and coppery blood. It had to be the placenta. She noticed Optimus probing it a little with his fingers.

"It's bigger than I expected." He looked up, "Didn't you mention wanting to wait awhile before cutting the umbilical cord?"

Elita finished nursing. Mikaela shifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed her back until she heard a tiny squeak of a burp.

She said, "Yeah. Give it a bit. You have a clamp, right?"

"Still in the package."

"Good. Let's get the placenta out of the water, though. It's starting to smell funky."

Optimus nodded and slid away from her. He got the Rubbermaid container, picked up the placenta by the umbilical cord and plopped it down with a wet splat.

"Shall I take Elita while you clean up?"

Nodding, Mikaela pulled the plug in the Jacuzzi.  _That_  was the moment Elita decided to pee everywhere. Mikaela let out a squeak. "Hey! I'm going to assume that's your way of saying you love me."

Optimus swooped in with the towel, but his rescue came a little too late. Elita was finished by the time he'd taken her from Mikaela's arms. Mikaela carried the plastic container with the placenta inside over to the bed. She flicked on the bedside lamp and noticed Optimus holding Elita a little awkwardly in his hands.

"Hey...remember how you held her when she grabbed your finger?" Mikaela picked Elita up and wrapped her more securely in the velvety red towel. The umbilical cord just dangled out the side, a blue, glistening thing in the dim light.

He sat down on the bed, making the shower curtain crackle. "Yes."

"Hold your arms like that. Now, cradle her..." She placed Elita in Optimus' arms. "There, just like that."

Once Optimus had it right, he seemed so  _natural_ , and Elita looked safe cradled in his armored arms. He glanced up at Mikaela and beamed. His eyes were moist near the inner corners.

_Beloved Protector_...

"You're a dad now, Optimus."

"Yes," Optimus said quietly, almost to himself. "Megatron never wanted to raise younglings. It was something we sometimes argued about before we separated. This is a dream I'm holding." He met Mikaela's gaze. "You made it come true. By the strangest twist of fate I have ever seen, you made it happen."

"You kinda helped, you know." Mikaela leaned against Optimus' arm and kissed his audio cover. "I always hoped any kids I had were with somebody I really loved." She grinned, "Even if he's an alien."

He laughed heartily at that, though he kept it low to avoid waking Elita.

Mikaela smiled and snagged the larger red towel meant for her. She took it with her into the bathroom, leaving the door open while she showered. Then she stuck a heavy duty menstrual pad into her underwear before putting on an old, oversized T-shirt and her red flannel pajama bottoms. It hit her then, as she reached under the shirt to put on deodorant.

_I'm a mom now. Having her wasn't the hard part. The hard part starts right now. Now, I have to raise her_...

Optimus glanced up. His face softened into a metallic smile, his silver facial plates glistening amber because of the bedside lamp. Elita slept peacefully in his arms like a little angel wrapped in red. She looked too innocent to have the entire repository of the Primes bouncing around inside her mind. Things would get interesting when she learned how to talk.

_...but I don't have to do it alone, because she has a father that'll adore every breath she takes_.

"Do you want to clean her up, or shall I?"

The shower curtain crinkled as Mikaela unrolled part of it and pulled the blankets on the bed down. "Let's both do it."

He nodded, somehow twisting around and settling Elita beside her without disturbing the baby's sleep. Mikaela happily cuddled her daughter against her chest.

Up close, Mikaela could see a little red mark on the middle of Elita's forehead. It was nestled halfway into her hairline--a thumb-sized port-wine stain shaped like the glyph for  _Prime_. When she got older and her hair grew longer, it'd cover most of it.

Elita woke up and blinked. Her eyes were dark blue, almost black, but Mikaela knew they'd lighten to match her own in a few months.

"I examined the placenta while you showered." Optimus spoke softly. "It's intact."

"Thanks, Optimus."

"No." Optimus touched his mouth against hers. "Thank  _you_."

She knew exactly what he meant, and couldn't help feeling guilty about how short her life was compared to his. And the possibility of him dying once and for all in battle hung over them as much as her own mortality.

Optimus glanced down when Elita whined. Then he focused on Mikaela--the smile on his face hadn't dimmed in the least. He leaned over until their foreheads touched, chuckling, "I believe she's ready for us to cut the cord and bathe her."

Mikaela grinned into his eyes. She felt too energized to lay down and sleep anyway. "Yeah...let's do it."

Mikaela watched Optimus' careful hands tie the cord in two places. There was a little blood when he cut it, but he snapped the clamp onto the stub without Elita so much as raising her voice. Without looking at the placenta, she took Elita into her arms and Optimus walked with her into the bathroom.


	16. Chapter 16

"I have a theory..."

Gurgle.

"I promise that it's interesting."

_Gurgle_.

"It's about your mother and I."

Silence.

"Elita...you see...long before you were even a thought in this world, I lost someone else I loved. On those nights I'd stare into the stars and wish to find that love again. However, wishes are odd things because..."

Mikaela slipped out of bed and padded to the room next door. She peeked through the doorway.

"...your mother mentioned wishing for the same thing I did. Can you imagine? Now, here is my theory..." Optimus had Elita on the changing table and he was cleaning her up with the wet wipes while he went on talking to her. "...I think wishes like to come true in ways we don't expect. What do you think?" He shook a little baby powder onto her backside, pulled the diaper up between her legs and attached the Velcro tabs to each other to hold it shut. "Perhaps wishes come true when enough people make the same one simultaneously. A cumulative effect, basically." He eased a plain white diaper cover on over her cloth diaper. "Do you have any thoughts on this?"

Elita moved her head side to side and brought her hands to her mouth.

"Hm, perhaps your opinion will change when you're older." Optimus slipped Elita into a pink Onesie, worked white socks on her feet and then deftly swaddled her in the yellow blanket draped over the crib railing. Learning all these procedures was easy for him--Mikaela only had to show him once and he picked them right up. Every time he looked at Elita, his eyes tilted in a smile, like he couldn't help but love her. "Now, let's go see if Mikaela is--"

"Awake? Yup." Mikaela didn't bother hiding her amused smile. Seeing Optimus, somebody who knew war and pain more than anything, tending to a helpless newborn just made her adore him more. "I think she's hungry."

Optimus secured Elita in his arms and brought her to Mikaela. The awkwardness he used to have when he held her was just a memory now--he could pick her up and carry her as if he'd done it every day of his life.

"It's been four hours since you last fed her." He said, "I think during the day, she should nurse every two hours at the very least. That is what most websites say."

"She'll tell us, Optimus. Don't worry." Mikaela accepted Elita's tiny weight and carried her to the rocking chair next to the door. She sat down slowly since her nether regions were still sore from last night's birth experience. Most newborns had trouble nursing, but Elita was a natural, and Mikaela never had issues getting her latched on. All she had to do was rub her nipple on Elita's lips and she'd open right up. Then it was just a matter of holding her breast in place and pulling the baby forward. "Yow! She's hungry."

"I will never get used to that." Optimus said. He reached towards Mikaela's breast and gently supported it. She moved her fingers and let him. It was his way of participating in the feeding--it brought them closer and it freed her hand to hold Elita more securely.

"That's a good girl..." Mikaela cooed. Her breasts began to feel tight and she knew her body was letting down milk.

Optimus chuckled in her ear, "She had my finger earlier. Is it painful when she nurses?"

"Only when she slurps like she's trying to pull my boob off. Like right n-- owww." Mikaela shifted her position and petted Elita's soft cheek. "Most of the time it feels pretty trippy. Probably like it does when I suck on your ears." She reached up and poked one of his ear finials.

"Interesting," he knelt down so he didn't have to keep bending over the chair. "I didn't want to trouble you while you were in labor, but Ultra Magnus was keeping me updated on Decepticon chatter he was picking up. I have him and Ironhide increasing their patrols while Ratchet and I guard the cabin."

Mikaela felt that unpleasant lurch in her pulse and Elita detached. She helped her daughter re-attach, then soothed her by rubbing her cheek. "What should I do?"

"You might need to pack an emergency bag for Elita as well as the one already set for you. I doubt we'll need it, but..."

"It's always best to be prepared." Mikaela finished for him. She looked down into Elita's dark eyes and those eyes looked back as if they had a thousand things bouncing around behind her pupils.

Elita finished nursing and Mikaela handed her to Optimus so she could sit straighter in the chair. In the time it took her to do that, Elita gurgled and spit up all over Optimus' left chest plate. Then she smacked her lips and curled her fingers, looking as innocent as a cherub with regurgitated milk dribbling down her chin.

Optimus looked down at his chest and his face crinkled. "Ew."

Mikaela almost wet herself laughing. "Get used to it. Babies are gross."

"I cannot be grossed out." Optimus handed Elita back and offered Mikaela a tissue to clean the baby's face off. "And I am not the one who gags over diapers."

"You can't smell, that's why. Be glad you can't." Mikaela said. She draped a blanket over her shoulder and patted Elita's back to burp her while Optimus ducked out to clean up. He returned a few minutes later, wiping at his chest with paper towels.

"God," Mikaela couldn't believe how much she loved the tiny baby resting against her chest. She'd claw Megatron's eyes out with toothpicks if it meant keeping her safe. "I can so totally see why Sam wanted to walk away. Then I look at Elita, and I look at you, and I see why I  _didn't_."

That made him smile in his typical, gentle way.

She kissed Elita's forehead and asked, "Do you ever have fits where you miss Megatron?"

"Fits?"

"You know...a second here or a minute there where you feel horrible that he's not with you anymore?"

"Occasionally, yes." Optimus' answer was honest. "The difference now is that I don't concern myself with trying to turn him back into who he was. I know that is impossible. Besides, I have two lovely ladies in my life now." His hand brushed over Elita's sparse hair. "And I made you a promise, Mikaela. I will be the guardian of everyone who comes after Elita."

"Even the ones running around on another planet after this Sun bites it?"

He chuckled. "Let me make you another promise."

She looked up at him, her smile slipping a little.

"If I'm still alive, and if Earth still exists after the Sun is gone, I'll return to this spot," Optimus pointed to the floor, "and place a picture of you on the ground as a memorial."

Mikaela could imagine it--a desolate landscape like the moon and Optimus standing all alone in the harsh light of a cheerless dawn. Every scenario she played out in her mind ended in him standing all by his lonesome in the dark. How did he deal with living such a long lifetime without going insane?

"Take me with you," she whispered to him. "When I get old and wrinkled and die, cremate me and keep me with you. I want to go where you go. Okay?"

She could see how discussing the subject hurt him by the way his eyes flinched. He hated reminders of her short human lifespan. But, bravely, he took her hand and touched it to his warm mouth plates.

"When that time comes, I'll keep you in my glove compartment. That way, you'll be right next to my Spark no matter what form I take."

Something hot swelled in Mikaela's throat. "Perfect."

Elita let out a wail. Her eyes moved back and forth, blinking as if invaded by bright light.

"She might be seeing symbols." Mikaela kissed her daughter's cheek, adoring her, and handed her to Optimus. "I think she needs you right now."

"Oh, my." Optimus said, accepting the day-old form in his arms. "Shhh, shhh...I'm right here." He carried Elita to the window and shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking her in his own way. Then he adjusted his hold so her bottom was cupped tenderly in his hand and her head came to rest on his shoulder. "Don't fear, Elita. I'll always be right here."

Elita stretched out a hand and touched the glyph on his right cheek. Her crying stopped instantly.

"There." He nuzzled his lip plates against Elita's forehead. "This will get interesting when you learn how to talk."

"I know what you mean." Mikaela giggled, watching Elita grab onto the windshield wiper on Optimus' chest. It obviously didn't hurt because he made no motions to stop her pulling on it.

Sobering, Mikaela just stared in awe. A few short years ago, Optimus was a strange, distant robot crashing into her world. Now, here he was, the love of her life and the father of her child. Where he came from didn't matter anymore--he was perfect. He fulfilled everything her heart desired. She couldn't imagine loving anybody else.

Mikaela joined Optimus by the window and laid her head against his shoulder, which brought her face to face with Elita. Optimus eased Elita into her arms before embracing them both. One hand on Mikaela's back, the other on Elita's chest.

"In however many billion years...if you see a great-great-great granddaughter of mine," Mikaela swallowed and pulled down on the armor over his Spark chamber. She eyed the engraving of their names. "...will you tell her about me? About us?"

"Yes." Optimus rubbed his mouth against the top of her head. "You will be as immortal in spirit as I am in body."

"Good." She looked up to meet his kiss. The ring he gave her for Christmas gleamed in the sun when he clasped her hand. " _Good_."

They were quiet for a moment--and then Optimus suddenly touched his audio. His optics widened. "Bumblebee is here..."

"Bumblebee?"

"Yes, he's alone." He frowned, then smiled. "Apparently, Sam caught trouble having his car on campus, so a mysterious blonde boy came to pick it up for him."

"Gotta love the timing." Mikaela sighed, amused.

She listened to Optimus' Spark pulse as she gazed out at the clear spring sky. Everything appeared so bright and peaceful, but she knew looks were deceiving. Elita's future wouldn't be easy. It was full of danger and uncertainty, but she didn't let herself worry too much. For however long the Spark in Optimus' chest burned, he'd be _there_  for Elita and all the lives yet to come.

Optimus petted her shoulders. "We should take Elita outside to meet the others."

"Yeah." Mikaela said, leaning on him and smiling. "Let's."

"I'll meet you there," he said in her ear. Then his hologram disappeared and all around the cabin was the cacophony of vehicles changing shape.

Mikaela made her way downstairs with Elita gurgling in her arms. She twisted the doorknob and gazed at the scene outside.

The Autobots were waiting for her, their bodies glistening in the sun filtering through the trees. Ultra Magnus and Bumblebee stood two deep on the left. Ironhide and Ratchet did the same on the right. Their legs formed a short pathway leading to Optimus, who held something cupped in his hands.

"Autobots," Optimus said, and everyone stood at attention. He beckoned Mikaela forward.

Mikaela glanced at everybody as she walked between them. Ultra Magnus struggled to keep his face composed. Bumblebee's door-wings shivered in veiled delight. Ironhide spared only a quick glance before staring straight ahead. Ratchet 'accidentally' nudged Ironhide and  _winked_  at her.

Elita never even cried at the sight of them. She squinted, moving her wrinkled fingers against the yellow blanket.

"As you all know, Primes are born, not made. My ancestors told me the Matrix of Leadership does not lie." Optimus knelt, his servos flexing and whirring.

"Wasn't it destroyed when you blew up that...machine thing?" Mikaela asked.

"I found it in the wreckage after the fight." Optimus slowly opened his hands to reveal a silver, dagger-like artifact. The Matrix of Leadership rose and hovered inches above Elita's head. Mikaela leaned back, alarmed, but Elita twitched and her tiny fingers wrapped around the tip of the Matrix like she knew exactly what to do. Something blue in the center glowed like a Spark until she let go.

"I present to you my daughter. Elita Prime." Optimus held one chest plate open and guided the Matrix into a compartment beside his Spark chamber. "And when she is ready, the Matrix will be hers."

Elita grimaced and began to fuss. Mikaela moved the blanket and checked her. She was wet.

"Optimus...I need to change her."

Optimus smiled and nodded. "Her needs come first."

The second Mikaela closed the door, she heard an explosion of excited chatter outside.

"A human Prime!" Ultra Magnus said, "Only a day old and she recognized the Matrix..."

"Hmph. Can't argue with the Matrix..." Ironhide huffed. "She's still annoying until she stops leaking."

"Stop grousing, Ironhide. If we find a new source of energon..." Ratchet's voice dropped too low to hear.

Mikaela had just undone Elita's diaper when she saw Bumblebee's face outside the nursery windows. She waved to him. He waved back and disappeared to join the others.

.o

Dim light from the kitchen lit the living room while Mikaela made sure every door and window was locked. Upstairs, Optimus' footsteps made the floor creak.

Mikaela helped herself to the sour green apple Optimus left sitting out on the counter. Then she headed up the stairs to dress down and prepare for bed. Some after pains made her pause and touch her lopsided belly. Being able to feel her own uterus through the skin was weird. She just hoped she'd be able to lose the baby weight.

The floor kept creaking. Optimus' voice rumbled faintly in the quiet. Mikaela tip-toed down the hall and peeked through the nursery door.

Optimus was sitting in the rocker and cradling Elita in his arms. He was too tall for it, so he sat with his legs stretched out and used his heels to gently rock the chair. The only light in the room came from the dancing teddy bear light on the dresser.

"Stars are special, Elita." He rocked the chair once, twice, his voice soft in the dimness. "They twinkle like jewels, but each one is more than meets the eye. Life comes from their light and power, and dreams are born in the wonder they instill. Stars offer us hope. Stars guide us. And faith is knowing they're there, even when the sky is too cloudy to see. That is why stars are precious treasures. And it took meeting you to understand what  _my_  father meant by that. If faith is love...then I have two of the brightest stars right here."

Mikaela's heart welled over in her chest. She watched Optimus stand up and lay Elita in her crib. The baby sputtered and voiced her protest. Chuckling, Optimus bent down and started to  _sing:_

_"Twinkle, twinkle, little star..."_

As Optimus' low voice crooned, Mikaela thought back to the positive pregnancy test nine months ago. She was lost and afraid, and the only person she could turn to was the one she'd nearly cast away without ever knowing the past they shared, the  _now_  she lived in or the future still unfolding.

Elita finally fell asleep. Optimus slowly straightened. His optics were two blue glimmers that shone a little brighter when he noticed Mikaela there. He cracked a small, sheepish smile and joined her in the doorway.

"So that's the story your dad used to tell you?" she asked.

"Yes." Optimus brushed a fingertip over her jaw. "It seemed right to pass it on."

She toyed with a strand of her own hair. "Would you mind telling it to me?"

He scooped her up bridal style and started towards their bedroom. "I'd be glad to." He winked, setting her down on the bed, "But first, I must say something very important."

Mikaela sobered.

Optimus leaned so close their lips nearly touched and whispered, "I love you."

She blushed and kissed him. "Say it in Cybertronian."

He did, and the sound of her name in his  _real_  voice made her heart shiver.

"We don't say 'I love you' on Cybertron...we just say 'love' while gazing into the eyes of a lover or bond mate. But the meaning translates into 'I love you' here on Earth."

If Mikaela's face got any warmer, she swore it'd burst into flames. How in the world did she find someone so sweet?

"So that's why you were a little shy about saying it when we met."

He nodded, laughing softly.

"You  _are_  a dork." Mikaela grinned, toying with one of his ear finials. "But that's why I love you."

"Fine, I'm a dork." Optimus rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

Mikaela kissed him between the optics and pulled him down into the bed with her. There was no safer place than his arms.

Maybe those two lines hadn't slashed her life apart after all.


End file.
